As much as I want to keep reading these as soon as new sequels are released, I think I need to take a break from The Thursday Murder Club and wait untAs much as I want to keep reading these as soon as new sequels are released, I think I need to take a break from The Thursday Murder Club and wait until a few more books have come out so I don't have such a long wait between installments. Because Richard Osman loves nothing more than subverting hardcore detective novel fans' expectations, these books have to be read sequentially, and unlike traditional detective series you can't just pick a random mystery to start with and dip in and out of the series. The events of the previous book's mystery, going all the way back to the first book, directly influence what happens in all the sequels, and you can't drop in without having the necessary backstory. And unfortunately, going so long between books means a lot of the details are starting to get lost for me. I'm definitely going to have to re-read this series from Book One eventually, but it's a credit to Osman's skill and the sheer delight that is the cold-case solving club of Elizabeth, Joyce, Ron, and Ibrahim (plus a few new helpers who are de facto members of the gang now) means that I'm genuinely looking forward to this.
The Last Devil to Die features one of my favorite detective novel tropes - the shady antiques dealer - so I was onboard basically from page one. Osman's preference for Elizabeth shows once again, as this is yet another Elizabeth-heavy story. I'm still at the point where I will happily take any information I can get about this character, so I ultimately didn't mind that she was taking center stage once again, but I have to admit that I'm starting to feel a little sorry for the other three members of the club and how they never really get to shine as brightly as Elizabeth does. I mean I get it - she's stiff competition when it comes to cool backstories. But I hope Osman lets the others get their time in the spotlight soon....more
TBH I should have abandoned this the second time (yes, it happens twice) a character in this Regency-era story uses the phrase "cut to the chase." TBH I should have abandoned this the second time (yes, it happens twice) a character in this Regency-era story uses the phrase "cut to the chase." ...more
This is one of those books where the story of how I got it is better than the book itself. I bought this book in Door County, Wisconsin - specificallyThis is one of those books where the story of how I got it is better than the book itself. I bought this book in Door County, Wisconsin - specifically, Fair Isle Books on Washington Island, which is a central setting in this mystery. The shop is lovely, the island is lovely (if you're ever there, make sure you go to Nelsen's Hall and do a shot of bitters), and it's genuinely disappointing that I didn't enjoy this as much as I wanted to.
The setup is great for a mystery series debut, because Annelise Ryan doesn't mess with tradition and gives us the usual cozy mystery setup of a single woman with a dark past who owns a quirky small business. Morgan Carter has taken over the ownership of her family's occult bookstore in a small beach town in Wisconsin following the gruesome (and as yet unsolved) murder of her parents. She is also a cryptozoologist, and the fact that spellcheck doesn't recognize that as a word tells you how seriously you should take that as a profession. The book kicks off with what can either be viewed as an homage or a straight rip-off of Jaws, when a kayaker turns up dead with mysterious bite marks on his body and Morgan is called in to give her professional opinion. And cue the uneasy partnership with the local cop/obvious future love interest, and we're off to the races.
I think the main issue was that, despite Annelise Ryan's best efforts, I never for one second got even close to believing that there really is a Nessie-esque creature stalking the waters of Lake Michigan and killing kayakers. Ryan obviously has a science background, or at least did plenty of research, but no matter how many paragraphs are devoted to Morgan explaining how a giant amphibious creature could definitely, possibly be out there, I never bought into it. (Seriously, though, the best Morgan can do is "there are underwater cave systems where the creature could be hiding. Caves, Morgan? Caves?! How does this thing fit? What is it eating?)
At one point, as she's walking the reader through one of her theories, Morgan admits that "it's nearly impossible to prove that something doesn't exist", which is the whole foundation on which the scam of crpyozoology rests. Part of me wonders if the book would have been more fun if Ryan had leaned into this angle, and made Morgan less of a scientist with some slightly out-there theories, and more of a total crackpot. Like, imagine a female version of Doc Brown running around Wisconsin trying to prove the existence of an American Nessie and solve a murder - that's a fun time! But Ryan's attempt to legitimize cryptozoology as a profession sucks all the wackiness out and leaves us with a standard cozy mystery that just happens to involve lots of conversations about lake monsters.
(Do I even have time to devote to the cop love interest? I must, because I hate this trope so goddamn much and mystery authors simply will not stop using it, so I have to keep complaining about it in every review. Here's what I'll say in this guy's favor: at least he sits down with Morgan at one point and tells her in plain English that he has feelings for her and wants to pursue them, which is more than most of the assholes in these mysteries can manage. I guess if you're going to make your love interest a puppet of the fascist American police state, you can at least make him an emotionally intelligent puppet.)
The other nail in the coffin for me was the way the mystery is structured - the plot is an episode of Scooby-Doo, full stop. (view spoiler)[Seriously. Pretty much as soon as they introduced the idea that there was a monster attacking people in the lake, I thought, "oh, someone is running around in a monster suit to keep people away from a specific area while they hunt for treasure" and I was exactly right. Well, except for the monster suit. It's a submarine, which was also obvious as soon as Morgan first sees the creature and notes its "glowing yellow eyes." Cue me screaming THEY'RE LIGHTS, MORGAN. YOU ARE A SCIENTIST. (hide spoiler)]
It's a fun, low-stakes mystery with a decently competent heroine at the helm, and even though I didn't vibe with the attempts to convince me Nessie is real, I liked how methodical and driven Morgan is in her attempts to prove it's existence and also solve the case. I won't be moving forward with this series (but then again, I think Book 2 is about Bigfoot, which should be fucking hilarious) but ultimately I'm not mad that I bought this. ...more
I'm shelving this under "detective fiction" because this is, by all definitions, a straightforward murder mystery, and plenty of page space is devotedI'm shelving this under "detective fiction" because this is, by all definitions, a straightforward murder mystery, and plenty of page space is devoted to the investigation. But those considering this book should bear in mind that this is an Elin Hilderbrand joint first and foremost, which means that our author is going to be much more comfortable in her usual wheelhouse of lavish beach houses, idyllic scenery, mouth-watering meals, and men named Tag.
To Hilderbrand's credit, this is a perfectly serviceable mystery setup: on the morning of thee wedding of the Nantucket season, a bridesmaid is found dead in the ocean outside the venue. The bride was the one to find her, and also the best man is missing.
Hilderbrand does a good job of making sure every major character has a *mostly* plausible motive for murder, and everyone's various timelines and alibis on the days leading up to the murder are convoluted enough to keep you interested. But the story suffers from two major flaws:
The first is that in order to make certain twists work, our heroine Celeste has to be staggeringly passive and sheltered, to the point where she often seems less like a modern day woman in her late twenties and more like a teenage girl raised in an 18th-century convent. Run by mice.
She's tough to root for, is what I'm saying, and I know that I was supposed to be cheering her along and hoping she gets the courage to take control of her own life - and I did, to some extent - but mostly I just kept wishing someone would shove her into a puddle.
(Here's where I admit my own bias and confess that Celeste lost me as soon as we get to her meet-cute with the groom, which happens when Celeste - the director of the Brooklyn Zoo, because that makes sense - is giving a tour of the reptile house and taps on the glass of a cobra's enclosure to get it to stand up and flare its hood out. If you've spent more than ten minutes in any decent zoo in the last ten years you know that this is super shitty behavior and a fucking zoo director would know better. Also Celeste uses the term "poisonous snakes." They're not poisonous, Celeste, they're venomous, and you should be fired.)
Hilderbrand is also handicapped by her own format, because the gimmick of the book is that the investigation takes place over a continuous 24-hour period, with breaks in the narrative for flashbacks that show all the events leading to the murder. Cool, but unfortunately real-life murder investigations take months, and Hilderbrand doesn't have that kind of time. No spoilers, but the way the cops absolutely botch the investigation is straight-up embarrassing.
Look, it's fine. The characters are fun and their various motives are appropriately bonkers, and almost nobody behaves like a normal human being. If you're a detective novel fan already, there isn't going to be anything here you haven't seen a dozen times before, but this is a fun, easy-breezy read with lots of great atmosphere and decent plotting. ...more
Another slam-dunk installment of the Thursday Murder Club, this one featuring a cold case centering around the death of a newscaster; plus we get moreAnother slam-dunk installment of the Thursday Murder Club, this one featuring a cold case centering around the death of a newscaster; plus we get more Elizabeth backstory thanks to the case also involving another one of her former lovers who also happened to be the head of the KGB. Oh Elizabeth, never change.
While fun and intricately plotted, I have to say first that Osman doesn't manage to hit the heights he achieved last time with The Man Who Died Twice, and also I'll admit that as much as I love learning more about Elizabeth's past, this now makes two books in a row that have leaned heavily on exploring some part of her personal history. It would be nice in future books if Osman remembered that the Thursday Murder Club has four members, and that even though they weren't international spies (that we know of) in their youth, the backstories of Joyce, Ron, and Ibrahim are just as rich and deserving of exploration. ...more
Lately I've been preoccupied with finding an ideal cozy mystery (that doesn't involve the plucky lady detective dating a cop, which you'd think wouldnLately I've been preoccupied with finding an ideal cozy mystery (that doesn't involve the plucky lady detective dating a cop, which you'd think wouldn't be a tall order, but man would you be wrong!), but Widows of Malabar Hill was a nice break away from the cozy subgenre and into the historical detective genre.
Detective stories set in the 1920's are a dime a dozen, and what made this one stand out to me was the protagonist - I'm sure there are a thousand historical detective stories about plucky British girls solving mysteries during the Raj, so it was nice to discover a series that focuses on the locals. Our amateur detective is Perveen Mistry, Oxford graduate and the first practicing female lawyer in India, who has just joined her father's law firm. The law firm has just been assigned to handle the will of a wealthy Muslim man who died and left behind three wives, with a male relative designated as their legal representative. Perveen thinks there's something hinky about the terms of the will and how the funds are being distributed among the wives, so she uses her unique position as a woman and a lawyer to visit the women alone and get more information about the will - something the men she works with would never be allowed to do. Soon enough, the guardian is found dead and Perveen has to figure out who did it, or all three widows will be ruined.
This was an interesting, detailed historical mystery - the author does an especially good job of illustrating the wide variety of religious and ethnic groups that could be found in Bombay in 1921, and Perveen's world feels rich and fully fleshed out. The actual mystery, unfortunately, leaves something to be desired. It felt like Perveen spent barely any time investigating, and aside from some interviews, she's not much of a go-getter when it comes to solving a murder. The culprit reveal plays out less like "here is the culmination of all the clues and little revelations the author has slowly planted throughout the book" and more "oh, hey, that's who did it!" There's a lot of time spent exploring Perveen's Tragic Backstory, and I'll give it a pass because it does ultimately play into the main mystery, but to be honest I would have been a lot more interested in hearing more about Perveen's experiences as an Indian woman at a women's college at Oxford in the 1920's (but I acknowledge that this is mainly my Harriet Vane bias talking).
Also the book features the classic "culprit tries to get the detective killed because she's Getting Too Close" sequence, but it falls flat because it feels like it's happening only because the author knows that this is a requirement of the genre, and not because it makes a lot of sense for this particular mystery or the characters she's created.
Still, overall this was a breath of fresh air in a genre that, despite how huge it is, can often feel extremely narrow in scope. Despite this one's shortcomings, I think I'll give Perveen Mistry another shot in the future. ...more
So, full disclosure: I did not finish this one. I tried, I really did - I checked this out from the library twice, and I got about 3/4 of the way throSo, full disclosure: I did not finish this one. I tried, I really did - I checked this out from the library twice, and I got about 3/4 of the way through it on the final try. But the second due date is rapidly approaching, and I officially give up.
Even though most mystery series are specifically written so that a reader can pick up any installment and jump right in without needing a ton of backstory, I always like to start a new detective series with Book One, because it's nice to get the lay of the land and see how the author introduces the recurring characters.
And Maisie Dobbs starts out very nicely, introducing our detective as she's in the early days of establishing herself as a private investigator in post-WWI London (Winspear fills the opening chapters with lots of nice little details, like how Maisie has to walk everywhere because sometimes Tube fare isn't in her budget for that day). The investigation kicks off when a man comes to Maisie's office with a simple assignment: he thinks his wife is having an affair, and he wants to hire Maisie to follow her and find out for sure.
Maisie accepts the job, giving the standard private-eye warning that her client may not like what she finds, and then she gets to work following the wife - and quickly learns that, rather than visiting a lover, the wife is visiting a gravestone once a week. Maisie starts investigating the identity of the buried person, and then Winspear takes a break from the action to bring the reader back to Maisie's childhood, and fill us in on her backstory.
This is the point where the plot comes to a screeching halt, and what might as well be a completely new novel starts. Maisie got a job in service for a rich lady, who happened to be friends with a private investigator, and the rich lady and the investigator encouraged young Maisie's interests in reading and studying, and then Maisie got a scholarship to Oxford but then WWI breaks out and Maisie decides to drop out of college and become a nurse, and...sorry, weren't we supposed to be solving a mystery?
This digression, in which we learn basically Maisie's entire life story, takes up twelve chapters. It's not a flashback, it's half the book! Yes, I fully admit I didn't finish the book, but I refuse to believe that all this information becomes relevant to the eventual solution to the mystery! Around the fifth time Maisie sits down for a cozy tea and chat with her father, I was so bored I'd forgotten what present-day Maisie was supposed to be investigating. The backstory chapters don't even really show Maisie learning how to be a detective - it just amounts to the same boring WWI romance you've read a thousand times: Maisie drops out of college to become a nurse because she feels it's her civic duty, and promptly has a doomed and chaste romance with a hot doctor. SNORE.
By the time Winspear takes us back into the present-day investigation, I no longer cared. This isn't a detective story, this is a boring wartime romance.
The only good news is that I think I'll still try another Maisie Dobbs mystery in the future - since Jacqueline Winspear spent the majority of this book telling us Maisie's entire backstory, that means that she'll have to spend the sequels actually, you know, writing a mystery novel. Can't wait. ...more
Am I allowed to give a book a higher rating just based on how much I like the title? I don't even like puns all that much but "Dim Sum of All Fears" iAm I allowed to give a book a higher rating just based on how much I like the title? I don't even like puns all that much but "Dim Sum of All Fears" is fantastic. Unfortunately, the second installment of Lana Lee, part-time noodle shop waitress and part-time detective, isn't nearly as good as I wanted it to be.
The setting of these mysteries remains the series' biggest strength: by setting most of the action within an Asian shopping center, Vivien Chien can perfectly replicate the small-town, everyone-knows-everyone's-business atmosphere that's such a foundational part of cozy mysteries - and the fact that said shopping center is located within a large city means that new characters can be introduced and then dismissed from the series as the plot requires.
Case in point: this time, Lana's amateur detective skills are needed when a young couple opens a new souvenir shop near the noodle restaurant that Lana's family owns, and then both husband and wife are swiftly and violently murdered by persons unknown. Catching the culprit will mean ramifications not just for Lana and her family's restaurant, but for the shopping center as a whole.
It's uneven, to say the least. The suspects include two victims' sisters and two ex-wives, and not only was it sometimes difficult to remember who was who, I felt like each pair could have been combined into one person without too much trouble. Lana remains a very inconsistent detective, alternating between flashes of brilliant introspection and being so uncommonly dense I can't believe she manages to tie her shoes in the morning. Also at one point she makes a joke about "millennials and social media" and it's a) hacky and not funny, and b) confusing, because based on Vivien Chien's author photo she is a millennial, so all the moments where Lana acted more like a fussy middle-aged woman seemed like a misguided attempt to appeal to older audiences.
And of course, we must discuss the cop.
(If you're new here: hi, I'm Madeline, and I really fucking hate mysteries where the detective dates a cop! Now that you're caught up, let's press on.)
Lana is dating the cop (Adam something) from the previous book, and their relationship remains as baffling as it is devoid of chemistry. Lana mentions at one point that she and Adam have gone on something like eight dates, but she still isn't sure if he likes her that way. And no wonder she's confused, since the only physical affection Adam shows her is kissing her on the forehead like he's her aunt or something. They had absolutely no spark, and multiple times I had to ask the pages, "Do you two even like each other?"
Also Chien tries to inject some intrigue into Boring Bland Adam by hinting at possible dark secrets in his past - during one dud of a date, Lana tries to ask him about his work as a cop and Adam replies that he's "not ready to share that part of my life." Well, buddy, you'd better hurry up and get ready, because so far your \only two character traits are "patronizing" and "is a cop," so either get interesting or spill your tragic past already.
(In any case, if Lana should be dating anyone, it's Peter, the hot chef at her family's restaurant. That I would like to see.)
In my review of the first Lana Lee mystery, I praised Chien's detective for being good at what she does, and a compelling fictional detective. I still think this series has great potential, but there's a lot of work to be done first. ...more
Sorry but if you're an author and you think I'm gonna be rooting for a love interest who (twice!) puts his finger on the protagonist's lips and tells Sorry but if you're an author and you think I'm gonna be rooting for a love interest who (twice!) puts his finger on the protagonist's lips and tells her "shush" (TWICE!), then we just have different priorities and it's best if we part ways amicably now and save ourselves the heartache later....more
I'm going to get this out of the way right off the bat: this is one of those "cozy mysteries" where the amateur detective dates a cop. The romance is I'm going to get this out of the way right off the bat: this is one of those "cozy mysteries" where the amateur detective dates a cop. The romance is garbage, because it's always garbage, and we'll get into specifics later on, but everyone considering reading this should be forewarned about what they're getting into.
Anyway, Lauren Elliott follows the cozy mystery setup to a T, because if there's one thing I've learned from my foray into this subgenre, it's that its fans demand nothing less than rigorous adherence to tradition (see - authors insisting to pretend that local cops in small-town America are exactly like the polite local constable who popped 'round to the vicarage to have tea with Miss Marple once a week). Our heroine and future amateur detective is Addison "Addie" Greyborne, who - sing along if you know the words - returns to the small town of her youth following a traumatic event, and opens a twee small business. In this case, the traumatic event is the murder of her fiance, and the twee small business is a bookshop. Addie is back in Greyborne Harbor because her distance great-aunt has recently died, leaving Addie her house and a small fortune. When Addie moves in, she finds her aunt's house crammed with an extensive collection of rare books, and since Addie formerly worked as a rare books appraiser, she decides to open her own shop and sell the items from her aunt's collection. Oh, and also some guy gets murdered and Addie decides to investigate
Here's how much Lauren Elliott does not care about her own murder plot: the victim isn't even an established character. The first time we learn this man's name is when the news of his death breaks, so obviously we as the reader don't really give a shit either way - we're only supposed to care if Addie solves the crime because her best friend has been wrongly accused of the murder. Elliott is clearly way more interested in the romance between Addie and the cop investigating the death, so one wonders why she didn't just write a straightforward romance, and then I would have at least known to avoid it, because a plot description would have clued me into what I was looking at.
Listen, I'm trying not to harp on individual authors who make this choice. But Murder by the Book was published in 2018 (for context, the Tamir Rice murder was in 2014), and I think that if you're an author writing a murder mystery set in modern day America, you have a certain degree of responsibility when it comes to portraying the way many people in this country view the cops. Sure, your detective needs an inside source within the local police force so they can learn details about the case, but there are so many other ways to do it besides a romance. It's lazy and bordering on irresponsible.
Or at the very least, can we not make the cop love interest such a fucking dick? The guy in this one is the worst, and if you think I'm being biased (which I am, duh), then please enjoy this excerpt where Cop Love Interest comes to Addie with important news:
"He sauntered past her over to the coffee machine. 'Want one?'
'No, I don't want coffee. I want to know what's got you grinning like the Cheshire cat.'
'Everything in good time.' He dropped a pod into the machine.
She stood back and crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and glared at the back of his head. He was silent as his coffee brewed. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it when he slowly tore open a sugar packet and poured it into the steaming paper cup. Believing he was done, she opened her mouth again. Without turning around, he raised his finger to silence her and picked up a spoon, methodically stirring his coffee. By this time, her cheeks were burning and beads of sweat were forming inside her collar. When he was finished, he placed the spoon on the counter, took a long sip, stretched out his rigid shoulders, and sighed. Her jaw tensed. She took a step toward him. He spun around, a sly grin across his face, and then he burst out laughing.
'Darn you.' She stamped her foot. 'Stop with the teasing.'
'Ah, but it's so much fun.'
'What has you in such a great mood?'
'Well, partner' - he winked - 'it seems we found enough evidence today to place a reasonable doubt on Serena's charge of second-degree murder.'"
I hate this. I hate it so much.
For context, the "Serena" they're talking about is the one who's been falsely accused of murder. She also happens to be Addie's best friend and the cop's sister. So Elliot has written a scene, which she genuinely believes is cute, where the cop has found evidence absolving his own sister of murder and is about to tell her best friend, but then this fucking guy decides that what he really needs to do first is a hacky, "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee" comedy routine. WHY. HOW COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY FIND THIS CHARMING. The man learned his sense of humor from a thrift store coffee mug and I'm supposed to root for him to make out with the protagonist?!
The Thursday Murder Club is back, baby, and Richard Osman knows exactly what the people want: more Elizabeth stuff!
Yes, sure, there's plenty of great The Thursday Murder Club is back, baby, and Richard Osman knows exactly what the people want: more Elizabeth stuff!
Yes, sure, there's plenty of great moments with Rob, Ibrahim, and Joyce; plus our favorite pair of local non-incompetent cops Chris and Donna (very American sidebar: England, what's it like living in a country where cops don't carry guns? I bet it's nice.). But make no mistake: this is first and foremost an Elizabeth story. And if that doesn't appeal to you, I can't imagine what's wrong with you.
The story takes a very familiar Retired Spy route when a blast from Elizabeth's past comes back into her life unexpectedly: none other than one of her fellow spies and former husbands, who is still doing work for the government and might have gotten into a little bit of trouble. In this case, "a little bit of trouble" means stolen diamonds, a finance broker to the mob, and at least one contract killer.
(One of many reasons I love this book: we get a setup where Elizabeth's ex has been accused of stealing a mobster's diamonds, and as soon as they're alone, Elizabeth is like, okay I do have to ask, did you steal the diamonds? And her ex is like, um, obviously I stole them, they were sitting right there, Elizabeth, what was I supposed to do?)
This book is a lot of fun because a) the Thursday Murder Club remains as delightful as ever, and as convincingly competent as ever (and this one, despite its focus on Elizabeth, is almost equally an Ibrahim book) and b) it solidifies what was established in the first book, which is that Richard Osman is cleverer than you.
The true joy of the Thursday Murder Club books is that Osman understands his audience. He knows that you've read Agatha Christie, and Arthur Conan Doyle, and a million other detective fiction giants. He knows that you know the tricks, and what to look for, and what you won't be fooled by. He's counting on it. This is a series for true detective fiction lovers - the people who know the patterns and the archetypes, and can enjoy a novel written by someone who has truly done their homework. And at the end of everything, Richard Osman and the detectives of the Thursday Murder Club can still surprise you. Because they're just that good. ...more
My one-sentence summary (and pitch for why you definitely should stick with this series if you're hovering somewhere around Book 3) goes as follows: tMy one-sentence summary (and pitch for why you definitely should stick with this series if you're hovering somewhere around Book 3) goes as follows: this is the installment where the Faceless Man gets a face.
Oh fuck yeah, guys, now we're cooking with gas.
In addition to finally giving us some payoff to plots that he's been painstakingly building since Book One, Ben Aaronovitch starts this book off with a truly great setup for a mystery: Peter Grant is called to an apartment in an extremely posh section of London, where a group of teens broke in and had a party. Problem is, one of the teens didn't make it out of the party alive. Bigger problem: one of the guests at this rager is none other than the daughter of Lady Tyburn, one of London's most powerful river goddesses and also the older sister of the girl Peter's dating. Who is also a river goddess.
So we have rich kids behaving badly, magical drug deals, inner-family drama featuring people who are also urban river gods, and more investigations into the Faceless Man - and, by extension, his interest in Leslie May.
As much as I loved how the previous installment, Foxglove Summer served as kind of a breather for Peter Grant, I'm very grateful that Aaronovitch has started knocking down some of the pins he set up way back in Midnight Riot, and is giving us some definite answers to questions he's been teasing throughout the series. The plot takes several large steps forward here, and it's exhilarating to experience the revelations and solve the puzzles alongside Peter.
In fact, the only thing that's starting to worry me about this series as it continues is Aaronovitch's many spinoff adventures that he's also written. Searching the series list of Rivers of London, you notice that there are almost a dozen other side-quest, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead-style novellas that fill us in on what several minor characters in Peter Grant's world have been getting up to in between the bigger novels. And this is fine, but the problem is that I haven't read these bonus books, and I don't plan to (listen, I'm in the middle of like four different book series, I do not have the time to watch all the bonus features. I'm trying to get through Discworld on the side, for Christ's sake!). It hadn't felt like I was really missing anything until this book - previous bonus adventures and relationship developments that happened in them are referenced frequently here, and for the first time it's starting to feel like I've missed something important. More than once, I was in the middle of reading The Hanging Tree and had to go back and check the series page to reassure myself I hadn't accidentally skipped an entire book. ...more
After being absolutely charmed by the first installment in Mia P Manasala's Tita Rosies's Kitchen mystery series, I dove into the second installment e After being absolutely charmed by the first installment in Mia P Manasala's Tita Rosies's Kitchen mystery series, I dove into the second installment excited for Lila's next investigation.
The setup is fantastic - it's a beauty pageant mystery! Lila's hometown has an annual beauty pageant, the Miss Shady Pines Pageant. Lila, as a past winner, has been recruited as a judge, and before you can say Miss Congeniality, threatening letters are being sent to the pageant staff, and then one of the judges turns up dead in a park.
Unfortunately, this one wasn't as much of a standout winner asArsenic and Adobo. Considering that her mystery takes place at a local beauty pageant, this setting and all its potential end up not really mattering to the story all that much, which was disappointing - it felt like the author could have had a lot more fun with the whole "local beauty pageant" angle. I'm not saying it needed to be Drop Dead Gorgeous, but I wish the author had been able to make a better case for why she chose to center this mystery around a pageant. Ultimately, it felt like this could have taken place during any number of local events.
We also get more of the love triangle between Lila, Jae, and Amir, and I think the real problem here is that the author has developed these relationships so thoroughly in her own head that she's forgotten to clue the readers in as well. It feels like the love triangle element gets wrapped up and resolved without ever actually being explored - by the end of this book, I felt like Lila's revelations about which man she wanted to be with hadn't been earned, at all, and that the whole thing deserved to be slow-burned for at least a couple more books. But then again, my personal high-water mark for detective novel romance is Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, which took half a dozen novels to finally develop. So I understand that I might be in the minority on this one, but for me, the whole love triangle is the weakest element of this series, and I hope the author can do something to make it more compelling in the next book.
In the introduction to her anthology of detective stories, Great Short Stories of Detection, Mystery, and Horror, Dorothy L. Sayers discusses the diffIn the introduction to her anthology of detective stories, Great Short Stories of Detection, Mystery, and Horror, Dorothy L. Sayers discusses the different varieties of crime solvers that are found in fiction, and then she writes that, "the really brilliant woman detective has yet to be created." To explain her reasoning, she goes on to examine the (for her time) current crop of Lady Detectives and says,
"In order to justify their choice of sex, they are obliged to be so irritatingly intuitive as to destroy that quiet enjoyment of the logical which we look for in our detective reading. Or else they are active and courageous, and insist on walking into physical danger and hampering the men engaged on the job. Marriage, also, looms too large in their view of life; which is not surprising, for they are all young and beautiful. Why these charming creatures should be able to tackle abstruse problems at the age of twenty-one or thereabouts, while the male detectives are usually content to wait till their thirties or forties before setting up as experts, it is hard to say. Where do they pick up their worldly knowledge? Not from personal experience, for they are always immaculate as the driven snow. Presumably it is all intuition."
I always think about this passage when I start a new mystery series (especially one of the cozies) because it's a question that all writers who create an amateur detective need to grapple with: having a clean-cut young proprietress of a bakery in a quaint small town decide to solve a murder is all well and good, but what exactly is it that makes her in any way qualified to do this? And Sayers makes an excellent point when she says that male detectives are allowed to be middle-aged, and therefore have enough built-up life experience to be plausibly good at solving crimes, but our female detectives often have to fall into the Nancy Drew camp, because god forbid we enjoy a story with a heroine north of fifty.
This is all an extremely roundabout introduction to The Thursday Murder Club, where Richard Osman brilliantly deals with the question of how and why his group of amateur detectives are qualified to investigate a murder by having all of them be elderly retired people, with several lifetimes' worth of experiences between them. There is no suspension of disbelief when it comes to Osman's four central detectives and their investigative skills.
The story, taking place in a cute retirement village in England (so imagine if Miss Marple had a theme park), introduces us to Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron - a group of friends who meet once a week to discuss old cold cases and see if they can figure them out. They call themselves the Thursday Murder Club, and when a shady real estate developer (like there's any other kind) is found dead in his home, the club is faced with a real-life case, and they throw themselves into it with gusto.
All four of our protagonists are delightful, of course, and together they have a combined wealth of knowledge that makes them more than capable of being armchair detectives - Joyce, a former nuse, is their Dr. Watson; and Elizabeth is a former...well, she never quite specifies. But she's seen a lot, and she has some very interesting business contacts and some definitive opinions on the best way to assassinate someone.
The mystery itself is tightly constructed and perfectly satisfying, and even the one twist I was able to guess didn't bother me at all, because it didn't ruin the fun of the story. Definitely going to have to look up the second installment soon.
Four stars for Arsenic and Adobo, purely because it's the first in a long string of cozy mysteries I've read lately where our plucky amateur detectiveFour stars for Arsenic and Adobo, purely because it's the first in a long string of cozy mysteries I've read lately where our plucky amateur detective doesn't have a romance with a cop.
(I'm serious, detective fiction writers: if you're going to write a cute mystery set in small town America in the 21st century, you need to take a good hard look at the state of policing in this country and maybe reconsider having your detective/bakery owner get romanced by the local cop. Please, for the love of god, stop doing this. I hate it. Thank you.)
Okay but for real, Manasala's debut mystery is genuinely very good. We have the standard cozy mystery formula where a young woman has to move back home due to some major life change, and has to take up the adorable family business - in this case, our detective is named Lila Macapagal, and the adorable family business is Tita Rosie's Kitchen. Manasala's main task here is to deliver regularly-scheduled descriptions of incredible Filipino food, and she definitely delivers - plus, there's lots of great detail about Filipino-American culture that gives the mystery its own unique viewpoint, and gives it character that sets it apart from the thousands of other cozy mystery series out there.
And also, and I cannot stress this enough, this is a detective story that acknowledges (and, in fact, emphasizes) that its mainly-POC cast of characters is going to have a vastly different relationship with the cops than Miss Marple had with the village constable or whatever. The cops in this novel present a very real threat to our protagonist and her family, and the book never shies away from this reality.
Additionally, this is one of those mysteries where our amateur detective actually has a really good reason for investigating the murder on her own - not only is the family restaurant in danger of being shut down if the murder doesn't get solved, but the culprit plants drugs on the murder scene, which results in Lila actually getting arrested and having to spend a night in jail. Manasala has the tricky task of delivering a standard cozy mystery with all the familiar beats, while also keeping her story firmly grounded in reality.
If you love cozy mysteries, Arsenic and Adobo offers the opportunity to see what the genre can become when we (ie, white readers) leave our comfort zone a little bit. If you've never explored the cozy mystery section of your library before, this is a great place to start. ...more
Death by Dumpling, the first in the Noodle Shop Mystery series, follows the cozy mystery rulebook pretty faithfully: when we meet our heroine/detectivDeath by Dumpling, the first in the Noodle Shop Mystery series, follows the cozy mystery rulebook pretty faithfully: when we meet our heroine/detective, Lana Lee, she's in the midst of a personal crisis: her last relationship just fell apart, and she also quit her job in a very burning-all-the-bridges way, which means she's resorted to picking up shifts at her family's Chinese restaurant.
Vivien Chien doesn't waste any time meandering around and slowly introducing us to her cast of characters - instead, we're off to the races almost immediately in the first chapter, when Lana delivers a lunch order to a man in a neighboring business. By the end of the second chapter, the man has dropped dead due to a severe allergic reaction. Lana and her family's restaurant are immediately under suspicion, because although the victim ordered pork dumplings, he appears to have been given shrimp instead, causing the allergic reaction. But Lana knows that the cook didn't screw up the order, and what's even more suspicious, the epi-pen she noticed in the victim's shirt pocket when she dropped off the food is missing from the crime scene. In other words, it was muuuuuurder, and Lana Lee is on the case as she tries to catch a murderer and save her family's business.
It's a good setup, and there are plenty of supporting characters to keep things interesting, but this is very much a first novel, in all the worst ways. There's a lot of repetition in the dialogue, and most of the conversations that happen in this book could have been cut down to save time. Chien also has a profoundly annoying habit of ending her dialogue in ellipses, and it makes all her characters sound like mumbling teenagers letting their sentences just trail off instead of ending. The police detective in charge of the case is set up as a potential love interest for Lana, but unfortunately there's nothing charming or even interesting about him - he's constantly warning Lana to stop investigating the case on her own, and I'm sure Chien was going for a "I'm trying to protect you because I have unexpected feelings for you and don't know how to deal with them" vibe, but he comes across as being more "you need to stay away from the case because I know better than you, because you're a stupid civilian and also a girl." I disliked him immensely, and I also thought Lana had way more potential chemistry with Peter, the cute chef at her family's restaurant.
The final culprit confrontation was also incredibly disappointing, and badly done. (I'm not going to name who did it but I am about to describe the circumstances of the reveal, so I'm putting it under a spoiler) (view spoiler)[For one thing, the reveal was bizarrely paced. Lana figures out who did it, and then just goes home and goes to bed, and then heads to work the next morning...at which point the culprit confronts her at gunpoint. The long period of time between figuring it out and revealing the culprit meant that any sense of urgency or drama was immediately lost, and it also makes no sense for the culprit to wait as long as they did before trying to silence Lana. Also, what was the plan, exactly? Shoot her in broad daylight in her parents' restaurant? How could the culprit have possibly thought they'd get away with that? There is a very wide gap between poisoning someone with allergen-laced food and shooting them point-blank, and the escalation made no sense.
And then Lana doesn't even get to have a hero moment! The fucking cop races in and saves the day by pointing his gun at the culprit. Lana did absolutely nothing - she doesn't even get to pull the classic "get the culprit to talk to stall for time" trick - the culprit just explains their entire plan, unprompted, and it was absurd. (hide spoiler)]
But even with all of that, I think I'm going to give this series another chance and read the second installment. First, because I love the setting: Chien does something very clever, where her story is set in an Asian-owned shopping plaza outside Cleveland - so we have a big-city setting with lots of potential for bringing in outside characters, but our principal setting is set up like a small town, where everyone knows their neighbors and it's not out of character for Lana to pop into different shops and trade gossip with the staff there. And, in true Cozy Mystery fashion, it's so goddamn cute:
"...the charming plaza of Asia Village, a quaint shopping center filled with what I like to refer to as 'Asian stuff and things.' You name it, we got it. Need Asian food, drinks, or candy? We got it. How about a stuffed Hello Kitty for your granddaughter? We got it. Maybe you miss KTV or need some old Chinese movies? We have that too. In all, there were thirteen stores, a giant Asian grocery, my parents' restaurant, and a new karaoke bar, the Bamboo Lounge."
And I like Lana Lee - I like her investigative technique, which is equal parts "listen to gossip and chat up the neighbors to get info" and "break into a suspect's apartment to snoop around." In the next book, I hope Vivien Chien has a little bit more fun with the snarky, sassy part of Lana's personality. I mean, how can you not love a detective who gets a gun pointed at them and thinks, "This was it. I was done at twenty-seven. I was going to die a server at my parents' restaurant with no man to call my own and a dog named after soy sauce."
Also, the second book is apparently called Dim Sum of All Fears, so of course I have to read it....more
After being pretty meh on the previous installment in the Rivers of London series (Broken Homes), I'm delighted to report that Aaronovitch's follow-upAfter being pretty meh on the previous installment in the Rivers of London series (Broken Homes), I'm delighted to report that Aaronovitch's follow-up is pretty close to perfect*, and exactly what I want from a Peter Grant adventure.
Ironically, the thing that makes this novel different from all the previous Grant books is also what makes it great: for the first time in the series, the adventure takes place outside of London. When the story starts, Peter Grant is on his way to a small town near the Welsh border to assist local police with a case - two eleven-year-old girls have gone missing, and since the site of their disappearance was in the same area as one of Nightingale's magical colleagues, Grant is being sent to verify that this is just a run-of-the-mill disappearance, and lend the local police some assistance at the same time. And if Grant can get some more information from the retired magician about Nightingale's backstory (and what, exactly, went down at Ettersberg), so much the better.
Now, considering that the London setting (and Ben Aaronovitch's historically rich, almost intimate knowledge of the city) is one of the biggest draws of the series, it seems pretty counter-intuitive that my favorite book so far would take place out in the 'burbs. And normally, I don't think I would enjoy a Peter Grant adventure that takes him away from the central setting.
But Aaronovitch has, brilliantly, chosen the exact right time within the series for this setting change to happen. After the events of Broken Homes, when we found out at the end that [redacted] is actually [redacted], it makes sense that Aaronovitch wants to get his protagonist out of town for a bit. The plot wheels are spinning a lot faster thanks to the revelations in the previous book, and it's very deliberate that Grant is getting a chance to catch his breath and focus on a lower-stakes mystery while Aaronovitch sets the stage for the eventual showdown with the Faceless Man.
So on the one hand: yes, this entire book is a stalling technique. But it works. First, because we need a full book's worth of time for Grant to work through his feelings about the events of the last book (or rather, because this is Peter Grant, to insist that everything's fine until it absolutely isn't). And the second reason it works is because the mystery still gives us plenty of great twists and worldbuilding and great Peter Grant moments (one of many delightful moments in this one has Grant going into various people's living spaces and immediately thinking that his mom would kill him if he kept his own room like that). In addition to that, Beverly Brooke shows up to lend a hand in the investigation (with mixed results, because as Peter tells us, for Beverly, "de-escalation is something that happens to other people."), and somehow Nightingale and Molly get some great moments and character-building, despite neither of them actually appearing in the story in person.
This novel is great because it understands that the "monster-of-the-week" episodes in serialized tv shows can sometimes be the best ones - they might not advance the larger plot in a hugely significant way, but they're important and entertaining none the less.
*Close, but not quite. I guess Ben Aaronovitch started watching Game of Thrones while he was writing this one, because all of a sudden Peter Grant can't stop throwing out references at inappropriate times, and it was painful every time. ...more
This one wasn't my favorite, and looking over all of the glowing reviews that others have written only makes me feel weirdly guilty for not liking it This one wasn't my favorite, and looking over all of the glowing reviews that others have written only makes me feel weirdly guilty for not liking it more. I'm sorry, guys, this one just didn't land for me.
The central mystery that occupies Peter Grant, rookie cop and apprentice magician, can basically be summed up as What's Going On In That One Apartment Complex. In the meantime, mysterious dead bodies are popping up around London, there's a fun digression with the river gods, and also more investigations into the Faceless Man and his cohorts.
So here's the problem: solving the mystery relies on Peter doing a lot of info dumping to the reader about the mechanics of the (really impressive!) blend of magic and technology that Aaronovitch has created for his series. Unfortunately, I could not follow a goddamn word of it, and so by the end of the book I was just basically nodding and smiling while Peter breathlessly explained why something I didn't understand in the first place was happening. I fully acknowledge that this is entirely my issue, so it shouldn't turn anyone off this book. But the fact remains that I have absolutely no idea what the big reveal actually meant, so the entire story really fell flat for me.
But! Even with that major complaint, the character development in this one is A+ and the messy plot won't prevent me from continuing the series. I just wish it had been a little more coherent.
(Okay, one more major nitpick: I really, really need Aaronovitch to stop throwing Doctor Who references into every single book. Would it be less annoying if I didn't know he used to be a writer on the show? Yes, probably! But I do know it, and it gets more irritating and self-congratulatory every time.)...more
The adventures of Peter Grant, rookie cop and apprentice wizard, continue! And so far, this is one of the standout installments in the Rivers of LondoThe adventures of Peter Grant, rookie cop and apprentice wizard, continue! And so far, this is one of the standout installments in the Rivers of London series - despite the uneven plot, Aaronovitch is doing a ton of new worldbuilding in this one, plus the setting of the main mystery is absolutely perfect. I almost wish he'd have set a mystery in the London Underground earlier in the series, but it was worth the wait.
The investigation kicks off with the discovery of a body in the Baker Street station (oh ho ho, Aaronovitch, we all see what you did there, putting a corpse at the beginning of a detective novel on Baker Street). The dead guy is James Gallagher, an American exchange student, and a piece of pottery is found near his body that Peter Grant immediately realizes is practically radiating vestigia. So obviously this is a murder with magical connections, and so we're off to the races. But the fact that this is an international murder means complications, specifically in the form of an FBI agent who has been sent over to make sure that the local cops don't mess it up too badly.
Like I said, the setting and the worldbuilding are the big selling points of this installment. You get to learn some really cool facts about the London Underground system (and if you're wondering how that could possibly be cool, this is maybe not the series for you), and Aaronovitch uses this mystery to add some new elements to his urban fantasy universe. Plus, we get some more investigations into the mystery of thee Faceless Man, aka the big bad of this series. And more updates on Leslie, who remains awesome and, tragically, a much more competent investigator than Peter who gets sidelined by the plot a little too often.
I will admit that the pacing of this one is a little uneven. The main mystery gets ignored for long stretches of time while Aaronovitch focuses on other subplots, and it feels like the investigation gets wrapped up way too quickly and way too slowly at the same time. But luckily Peter Grant remains a delightful protagonist, and the supporting characters are just as great. I just wish the actual murder mystery that kickstarts the whole book had been developed a little more coherently. ...more
“'There's more to life than just London,' said Nightingale. 'People keep saying that,' I said. 'But I've never actually seen any proof.'"
Midnight in So“'There's more to life than just London,' said Nightingale. 'People keep saying that,' I said. 'But I've never actually seen any proof.'"
Midnight in Soho, the sophomore installment in the Rivers of London series, is overall just as much fun as the first one - it's still quippy and clever, Peter Grant remains a delightful protagonist, and Ben Aaronovitch continues to find new and fun ways to play with the "wizard apprentice" trope. Also, he continues to use his London setting to full effect, this time taking us on what feels like a true locals' tour of the jazz clubs of Soho.
The investigation kicks off with the murder of an amateur jazz musician, and when Grant inspects the body, he gets hit with a wave of vestigia (basically the fingerprints that magic leaves on a person or object) and recognizes it - a specific cover of a jazz song, which Peter is familiar with because his own father is a former jazz great. Solving the mystery will mean going back into that world, and enlisting his estranged father for help. In the meantime, we also get some of Nightingale's backstory (and clues to how long, exactly, he's been alive), more of Peter Grant learning magic and putting his own personal spin on how it's done, plus this book seems to be setting the stage for the series' Big Bad, an "ethically challenged magician" (because Peter feels we shouldn't say "black magic" to denote evil practitioners) who is doing some...very messed up stuff. Plus there's vampires.
There were a few things here that didn't quite gel for me, though. First, Aaronovitch's history as a former Doctor Who writer is emphasized a little too hard in this one - the book namedrops the show at least three times, and "self-indulgent" doesn't even begin to cover it. Also, Peter Grant gets a love interest in Moon Over Soho, which is fine, but Aaronovitch is a little too insistent on making sure the readers know that oh yes, Peter Grant fucks. Again - fine. But I was never really invested in the romance, and Grant can't do much to convince us that this is a worthwhile subplot outside of assuring us, repeatedly, that his love interest is super hot and he's super into her. I guess Aaronovitch's interpretation of the "show don't tell" maxim was to just write some sex scenes and leave it at that.
But those are all minor nitpicks. Overall this is a fun, magic-and-action-packed good time, and I definitely plan to continue with the series. Also, can I just add that, as an American, it's downright quaint to read about a cop protagonist who isn't allowed to carry a gun? Aaronovitch has definitely done his research on the London police force, so we get lots of details about Peter Grant's de-escalation training and all the ways he's been taught to non-lethally disarm a suspect and...must be nice, is all I can say. Also there's a bit where Peter explains that when cops have to storm an apartment, one of them carries a shotgun "in case there's a dog" and then immediately adds that they don't usually tell people that because it upsets them.