a surprisingly weird book. I did not expect a Golden Age murder mystery set in a country mansion to be so strikingly bizarre. this is the first Mrs. Ba surprisingly weird book. I did not expect a Golden Age murder mystery set in a country mansion to be so strikingly bizarre. this is the first Mrs. Bradley mystery (the first of 65!!) and I wonder if Gladys Mitchell kept her long-running series as eccentric as its debut.
the book trumpets its oddness with the first murder victim (and this is not really a spoiler): the world-renowned explorer Everett Mountjoy, who turns out to be... a woman? why exactly she disguised herself as a man throughout her life is never explored. how she got herself engaged to another woman is also never explored. we learn nothing about her family, her background, no context whatsoever, except that this rather delicate and physically shy explorer has been pretending to be a man all along. the cast finds her body in a tub in chapter one, then early in chapter two it is noted that he was actually a she. and that's that! the novel proceeds on, as if this information is barely worth discussing. I should make it clear: I loved this. I've read nothing like it before. I kept on waiting for the novel to explain Everett Mountjoy's circumstances. the novel was uninterested in doing that; it shrugs at the idea of a gender swap. that delighted me for some reason.
but the true eccentricity of the book comes from its protagonist and chief mystery-solver, the elderly and very urbane psychoanalyst Mrs. Bradley. she's the opposite of Agatha Christie's kind and rather melancholy mid to late-period Miss Marple (she does bear a slight resemblance to the nosy and gossipy early-period Marple). this ferocious woman is consistently described as looking like some evil bird, her skin yellowed, her hands claw-like, her lips beaked, her smile gloating, her expressions full of "inhuman malignancy" like a "playful alligator." she's far more intelligent than everyone else around and makes that clear. she laughs horribly when considering the potential of more murder and mayhem; she's filled with glee whenever anyone gives in to morbidity or fear. she's as comforting as an executioner. she wears loud, garishly colored outfits that seem designed to offend the eye. and yet she also has a voice that is "unctuous, rich, and reminiscent of dark, smooth treacle." craziest of all: (view spoiler)[near the end of the book, she decides to murder the murderer! and does! and she gets away with it, due to her own cleverness and the skills of her equally psychopathic son, a brilliant attorney (hide spoiler)]. I'd really love for you to click that spoiler, but it does spoil a stunning surprise. although it doesn't give away the identity of the murderer, so maybe you should click it! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
the book is far from perfect. it's a pretty slapdash and could use some tightening up. it's not sloppily written; it feels more like Mitchell was very excited to get this book out and so didn't spend any time editing or streamlining, she just wrote & wrote & wrote and then done! off to the publisher!
I will be reading more books featuring Mrs. Bradley. what an incredible weirdo, I'm in love.
She is a coolly collected killer, without pity. Whether her characters are kind or cruel, no matter, her knife plunges in. Her victims may as well be She is a coolly collected killer, without pity. Whether her characters are kind or cruel, no matter, her knife plunges in. Her victims may as well be her murderer: all deserving only the scantest sympathy. Although she came shortly after the Golden Age of Crime Fiction, that genteel milieu, she writes as if she hails from an older, colder age. She has viewed the world and is not particularly impressed.
Perhaps because she was a child and then an adult of war. She has seen certain things. Some personalities only survive, and perhaps flourish, by shutting down the kindness, the empathy. One must have a clear head to live in such times. One must be a little heartless.
And so she wrote a book about doctors, nurses, and murders. All taking place in the middle of war, a war that feels very, very real. Broken hearts, broken minds. Brittle banter. Love may be real, but it does not heal. Anaesthetics applied, less than carefully. Bombs crashing so often, one could get jaded. A mother buried under rubble for three days, only to die after rescue. Voices from Germany, jeering at the foolish Brits. The warmest and sweetest of the characters ignored and dismissed, her heart broken, the very last pages a portrait of her despair. The author shrugs. Such is life.
She went by many names: Mary Ann Ashe, Annabel Jones, Mary Roland, and China Thomson. She was born Mary Christianna Milne. For this book, her name is Christianna Brand. A clever writer and a clever book - it is the rare reader who could guess the murderer. A clever book, and such a callous one. Reading it made the chilly weather feel even more wintry. Not a book of much human warmth.
this felt a bit long for what was basically a Scooby-Doo murder mystery. still fun though. enjoyable setting on a big boat, entertaining plot, lively this felt a bit long for what was basically a Scooby-Doo murder mystery. still fun though. enjoyable setting on a big boat, entertaining plot, lively characters, and the reveal of the puppet masters behind it all was amusing (I guessed the first but not the second). this is a Scooby-Doo episode turned into a big-budget, live-action Netflix miniseries with all of the trimmings; it even left room for an ongoing sequel series. very bingeable....more
suspenseful and tightly written account of a headstrong governess sent into a snake pit. although the unknown author Langdon Dodge does give the sprawsuspenseful and tightly written account of a headstrong governess sent into a snake pit. although the unknown author Langdon Dodge does give the sprawling oceanside mansion Hawk's Head some atmosphere, the novel's focus is more on the overripe emotional landscape of this eccentric hothouse. the small clan within is flush with grudges, disdain, despair, and the feeling that life is a series of trials that can never be overcome. the author paints this place with vivid colors while giving scenes a weird air of offness, as if something abnormal is happening, but it is hard to specifically say what is wrong. everyone is speaking in a code that our heroine can't understand. perhaps the creepiest of the cast is the self-loathing grandmother, eerily content to be manipulated by those who mean her nothing good, so nihilistic and done with life that she passively encourages the villain's murderous schemes to do away with her young grandson. rarely have I so longed for the death of a senior!
the villain herself is the book's most impressive creation: aptly named Zilla, this head servant is the true queen of the castle. Zilla is an earthy, voluptuous, rather sympathetic peasant, given to maudlin smiles, teary eyes, and too-loud laughter. she is, as our unlikeable hero deems her, rather common. she's also full of a greed for life and a secret hate for the class system that one can't help but admire. in another book, she'd be the downtrodden, self-aware heroine who has lifted herself up by her bootstraps. but here she's a conniving monster, eager to claim the life of the family's heir - a precocious lad with a heart problem. the moments when she cheerfully encourages her own kid to bully the boy into despair were disturbing. even more so was a scene on a rollercoaster where she holds the struggling, weeping lad in place as they go on ride after ride in the hopes that the child will keel over from fright, as she laughs uproariously all the while. fortunately for the boy, there's an easily irritated and rather bitchy new governess on the scene who has just about had her fill of all of this murderous nonsense....more
never a fun author but always a deep one, John le Carré. a pensive, carefully controlled writer and a deceptively placid novel: the perfect ingredientnever a fun author but always a deep one, John le Carré. a pensive, carefully controlled writer and a deceptively placid novel: the perfect ingredients for the start of what will become a classic series. one that will take the thrill out of 'spy thriller' and which will explore previously unmined depths within the genre. we meet George Smiley and gradually become impressed by this seemingly dull, lumpish, rather vague man. we appreciate his dry insights, his dislike of the pompous and the showy, his sardonic outlook on the systems around him, that almost control him. almost, but not quite, not fully; and not fully means he is, at heart, unable to be controlled. his empathy slowly becomes clear: an empathy that defines him, that is key to what makes him strong, and that is also his greatest weakness. this is not only a novel of spies and espionage, it is also a murder mystery. sadly for George, empathy is perhaps not the most helpful attribute when it comes to solving a murder....more
this story of an especially appalling death in 1930s India is dense with detail and characterization. we come to deeply understand this small family othis story of an especially appalling death in 1930s India is dense with detail and characterization. we come to deeply understand this small family of English colonials: father, mother, stepdaughter, son, and his governess. the first of the novel's three parts gives the reader a chapter from each of their perspectives. depths are mined and the book transports its reader fully into its settings (late-period colonial India and then WWII England). and yet what makes the book so successful, and the mystery both so hard to parse and so satisfying when explained, is that there is an entire plotline that lives outside of the book's narrative. therein lies the mystery and the reason for the death. a parallel narrative that took me completely by surprise when it was revealed, a thrilling story with its own ups & downs, its own passions and heartbreak, a story that impacted everyone, and yet is never explicitly mentioned except in the book's melancholy closing pages. that this hidden history didn't feel like a cheat when finally laid out was an impressive achievement. my reaction was Ah! Of course! rather than WTF! it all made perfect sense, the clues and the tells were there all along. Francis King is a formidable writer, a magician when it comes to what he shows and what he chose not to show. the magic is happening, but off-stage....more
the hills and pools of Crete are beckoning and fair, all the better to entice an American abroad into perhaps unwise exploration. the island is full othe hills and pools of Crete are beckoning and fair, all the better to entice an American abroad into perhaps unwise exploration. the island is full of flowers, growing out of packed dirt and blanketing the countryside, dazzling the eye; the island is also full of women, shy, eyes downcast, clad in black, working from dawn to dusk. the village, the homes, the mill, the church... all eager to be opened for inspection, for those tourists armed with both camera and money. the villagers are likewise armed, with pride and gossip, knives and rifles, quick to stab and to shoot, to turn friend into foe. fishing spears and crab buckets can be used in surprising ways! Mary Stewart writes like an enlightened traveler, ready to stay on a while, as careful to withhold judgment as her heroine is quick to judge. happily, that judgment is often sound, encouraging her to help a man in need, to search for a boy that has vanished, to render sympathy towards a downtrodden woman. even in a place as lovely and open as a Cretan village in the spring, a life can be made small, if that life is ruled by a small and closed mind. in Crete, and elsewhere, sometimes it is better for a husband to be dead; perhaps then his wife can finally live....more
You can't go home again, thinks Jenny in NYC, of her past life in the south, of River House and all of its memories. But home she goes, to reunite witYou can't go home again, thinks Jenny in NYC, of her past life in the south, of River House and all of its memories. But home she goes, to reunite with the family, after a quick and angry flight away from them all that has lasted a decade. Home to see her perhaps-crazy mother and to learn more about her mysteriously vanished father, presumed dead, all that's left a hazy but golden memory of a man she thinks she cherished. Daddy's Little Girl shall be the key figure in this family reunion, which will also include shredded clothes, toppled furniture, terrible whispers, a mysterious straight razor, a slaughtered chicken, messages in blood, and a lunatic on the prowl. Fun reunion!
Harrington is a superb writer in all the ways that count most to me: an excellent builder of atmosphere with the very Southern dialogue at home in the sweaty weather, the bright landscape, a dilapidated mansion full of nooks and crannies, a hoarder's kitchen, an isolated trailer; deep, believable, surprising characterization; a rueful tone in our heroine's voice, matched by the odd melancholy of the story itself. Plus the creepiness! This author knows how to do creepy. As well as dread, and foreboding, and even a low-key romance and kid characters who aren't cloying. And she knows how to place memory at the center: remembering the buried past; how the memories of the past impact the present; how memory can't always be trusted.
Probably would have been a 4-star book for me, but a surprising (and graphic) child rape scene just really took me out of the story. A perhaps necessary scene, but I'm a squeamish sort and there are some things having to do with kids (or with animals) that I'd really prefer to not have to deal with and which make me kind of angry with an author. Unreasonable of me, I think, but there you have it....more
the effort is clear, the intelligence is obvious; the results are uninteresting. this is a supposedly atmospheric literary murder mystery, set in Pragthe effort is clear, the intelligence is obvious; the results are uninteresting. this is a supposedly atmospheric literary murder mystery, set in Prague on the verge of the turn of the 16th century into the 17th. but "atmosphere" is not describing an entire city as, well, yucky. "atmosphere" is not just describing gross food or the pustules on the back of a page's neck. atmosphere brings me to a place, makes that place real. for a setting like this one, it would be cobblestones and fog and eccentric architecture and the sounds of young partisans in the streets and coffeehouses; you know, the way a city looks and feels and sounds at a certain point in time. not just the way it smells! and not just the things that the author finds repellant. characterization was likewise uninspired. all of the suspects are Machiavellian gargoyles and it was surprisingly hard to tell them apart. I mean, one is really tall and another is a dwarf and a third is a High Steward and a fourth is a High Chamberlain, but they are all mysterious, condescending manipulators who barely give our unremarkable, equally flat protagonist the time of day. this does not make for a compelling murder mystery, especially when figuring out the murderer's identity is relatively easy. the literariness of the endeavor is perhaps signalled most strongly by its title, a musical term that makes little sense when used as a description of our pallid, ineffective hero.
critiques aside, the writing was actually quite good, in its way. it's like a talented artist was given a commission to paint a cityscape in bold, dramatic colors but mulishly decided to draw a black & white sketch instead. the result is a disappointment but the talent is still clear....more
the suspects take a lot of getting used to. the family in question are bizarre aliens from a distant planet called Upper Class England and oh boy theythe suspects take a lot of getting used to. the family in question are bizarre aliens from a distant planet called Upper Class England and oh boy they are something else. my jaw dropped several times when reading about their abnormal antics. especially the late arrival: a half-brother who comes across as the most pleasant yet still irritating lunatic one could ever meet. his younger half-siblings are not so charming, alas. the reader must put aside certain things to enjoy this strange sister and brother: a need for characters to act rationally, or to exhibit empathy, or to have even the slightest bit of conversational skills needed to survive outside of their studio apartment. these unnatural creatures are interesting though, on an anthropological level. however did they survive in the wild? and do such beings still exist??
Heyer, as always, has a marvelously light touch, a great eye for detail, and a droll sense of humor. this is a lesser work but I still enjoyed it, despite her obvious snobbery. love her!...more
cool, calm, and collected, The Christmas Guest makes a cutting joke of the Christmas guest in question, an excitable American studying in England namecool, calm, and collected, The Christmas Guest makes a cutting joke of the Christmas guest in question, an excitable American studying in England named Ashley Smith. quite a contrast between the narrator and the narrative itself. despite the oblivious naivete of Ashley's gushing first-person account (via her diary) of her holiday visit to an unsettling English family's manor, this is a sardonic and very deliberate story, full of cunning tricks and an upsetting surprise or two. I was certainly taken aback at where this story went, a couple of times. Swanson moves his little pawn across his chess board so carefully that I never saw the strategy at work. this novella may be a minor entry within the author's works, but it is perfectly accomplished. an efficiently constructed little trap, for Ashley and reader alike....more
famed entomologist Ruth Rendell delivers another cold-eyed treatise on how human bugs will stubbornly cling to the unhealthy trajectories they have sefamed entomologist Ruth Rendell delivers another cold-eyed treatise on how human bugs will stubbornly cling to the unhealthy trajectories they have set for themselves. she has some sympathy for her collection of insects - especially the protagonist bug Inez and even the serial killer bug dubbed by the press as "The Rottweiler" - but bugs they were born and bugs they usually remain. I've always admired the formidable Dr. Rendell's scientific rigor when it comes to the study of these creatures, and the depth of characterization on display is, as usual, very well done. but are these sad little beasts truly the sum of their patterns and limitations, and no more? this uncharitable researcher appears to think so....more
M.M. Kaye's last of the Death in... mysteries is somewhat messy compared to the prior (standalone) novels. at this point in her career, I think she waM.M. Kaye's last of the Death in... mysteries is somewhat messy compared to the prior (standalone) novels. at this point in her career, I think she wanted to do sprawl, and although this is not a long book, the feeling is a lot more loose and sprawling than its more tightly structured predecessors. despite the story taking place over the course of a weekend. the writing also has a certain sloppiness at times, at least when it comes to the sometimes tin-eared dialogue that favors archness over psychological realism. ok enough of the complaints, this was still an enjoyable read.
the tropical setting of the Andaman Islands was beautifully evoked, per usual for the author. pure pleasure to read about, especially after a typhoon hits the islands. hysterics ensue for some of the characters - and that's prior to the multiple murders. most of the cast are stuck in or near the official English Residence. despite its ocean views, high ceilings, and an expansive amount of space, this is not a very nice manor house. happily for the reader, all the bats flying about and the rain pouring in from the ceilings and the mysterious footsteps pacing just outside the bedrooms make for some fantastic atmosphere. two couples soon form a kind of Young Detectives Club as they roam around the island trying to solve mysteries while flirting and arguing with each other, discussing and updating lists of clues and suspects. this is in some ways a (lightly) decadent novel, due to its uncritical focus on the colonial lifestyle and privileged attitudes of these usually well-dressed and fairly well-off ladies and gents. I love these sorts of murder mysteries and I don't even feel guilty about it - if anyone has suggestions for more in this vein, let me know! Death in the Andamans was like a lengthy prix fixe dinner at an expensive fine dining establishment. not all of the courses were as technically accomplished as the chef assumed them to be, but the entire experience was memorable and full of flavor. delicious novel.
M.M. Kaye could conjure atmosphere out anywhere, just give her a setting where she had some personal experience. it really was a gift, that ability toM.M. Kaye could conjure atmosphere out anywhere, just give her a setting where she had some personal experience. it really was a gift, that ability to channel her memories and experiences into creating a totally real and immersive setting, while also making sure that that setting is, at different times, intriguingly foreign or weird, unnerving. one would think that post-war Berlin would be bereft of "atmosphere" and instead come across as gray, dull, depressing. not the case here! the military housing where our protagonist is lodged is made supernaturally eerie. Kaye transforms this house - and much of Berlin - into a place of disturbing ambiguity. mysterious motivations, shadowy spaces where who knows who could be watching you, windows that should be locked somehow not, soft footsteps heard where they shouldn't be. perhaps that shadow falling across the lawn at dusk is not a shadow after all.
the mystery itself is aces. I was pretty surprised at who turned out to be the killer, even though the author played fair when setting up their motivations; I should have studied this character even more closely. even in this early novel, Kaye's facility with characterization nearly rivaled her skill with establishing then exploring an evocative setting....more
wow that ending, that murderer. I didn't not expect the one to be so dark and the other to be so cruel. this short but rather frustratingly slow-pacedwow that ending, that murderer. I didn't not expect the one to be so dark and the other to be so cruel. this short but rather frustratingly slow-paced detective yarn was all set to be a forgettable 2-star read. not that it wasn't well done, but the reader is well inside Inspector Sloan's head, as well as in the heads of a grieving young woman, a bland young constable, and a clever old fisherman... and these are not particularly interesting heads to be in. Aird is a careful writer who doesn't mind getting granular, and so we are privy to Inspector Sloan's often wry but often dull observations during various interviews, to the slow and very realistic grieving process that Elizabeth Busby is going through, to the domestic life of Constable Crosby, and to the mercenary schemes of Horace Buller. all of their various thought processes just made me sleepy. I think soporific would be the word here? the book reminded me that telepathy would be the worst, most tedious superpower to have.
but that ending, that murderer! I just couldn't believe it, I was so surprised and disturbed. such cunning, sadistic, evil machinations. the resolution sorta took my breath away....more
a unique experience for me. this is a cold case murder mystery set in the searing heat of the Australian bush with a protagonist who is basically the a unique experience for me. this is a cold case murder mystery set in the searing heat of the Australian bush with a protagonist who is basically the story's only character. (two other characters do appear: one via journal entries read by our protagonist, and another in just the last few pages.) the cold case: who started the blaze in an isolated farming community that claimed the lives of nine residents and hundreds of animals? Officer Hamilton wants to know what happened to his friend, a teacher in this community, so he sets up a campsite and begins digging throught the burnt remains of this tiny town. S.H. Courtier is a calm and deliberate writer and his first-person narrative makes no missteps in terms of characterization or realism. I was surprised at how absorbing this mystery turned out to be. especially after Hamilton discovers an entrance to a tunnel system that leads to a bizarre underground lair. creepy!...more
this enjoyable murder mystery was published in 1941, two years after the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction" but belonging squarely to that tradition. ithis enjoyable murder mystery was published in 1941, two years after the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction" but belonging squarely to that tradition. it all takes place in a cushy cabin during a blizzard, close enough that a detective and his squad are able to helicopter in to try to solve the crime, but far enough away (and with all of the roads closed) that its cast of richie riches are forced to remain in each other's company despite one murder and then another. there's just something about the combination of cold, cabins, the wealthy, and murder that makes my heart sing. Christopher Hale does a great job conveying the shifting loyalties and many motivations of his cast through the eyes of his nervous, lovelorn, and not particularly brave heroine. also, interestingly, he makes it clear that she's a better match for the handsome detective than for her nervous and secretive twit of a fiancé, then never bothers to make that more satisfying match happen.
BIG SPOILERS FOLLOW but really, are you ever going to actually read this?
the ending was fantastic fun: the heroine is being confronted by who she assumes is the secret killer, and who is at the very least the most obnoxious guest (and way too handsy), when suddenly the real killer skis right into him, knocking him out and into the snow, and then literally carries our heroine off. lengthy and very psychotic monologue soon follows and I took that time to slowly pull my jaw up off the floor, trying to picture what just happened. the fact that the real killer is the tall, horsey lady who is an amazing athlete and is the most sympathetic character by far, as well as someone who pretended that her evil, exulting laughter were the shaking sobs of fear and mourning... honestly, I fell in love. I sorta want to reread this one just to see if there were clues there all along....more
frenetic murder-farce. the bodies keep piling up and pointing in poor Sukie's direction. it doesn't help that her mother has been committed to an insafrenetic murder-farce. the bodies keep piling up and pointing in poor Sukie's direction. it doesn't help that her mother has been committed to an insane asylum for arson and her grandmother was executed for massacring folks with an ax; with a lineage like that, she's everyone's first suspect. Sukie herself is not all there, to say the least. I'd commit her without thinking, but perhaps in this book her deranged boneheadedness is meant to be charming? unfortunately and fortunately for Sukie, she is surrounded by a dozen or so completely amoral neighbors who are prone to both blackmail and to being paid to hide various bodies. she also has a sauve, occassionally helpful uncle who is currently terrorizing London as the notorious Strangler.
that paragraph above was a bit more enjoyable to type out than reading the book itself. too broad and pleased with itself for my tastes. Pamela Branch did seem to really enjoy writing this and I suppose I'm not against folks having a nice time with their hobbies, so good for her. and the uncle was a great character, what with his seething snobbery, blood phobia, and frequently curtailed plans to finally strangle the annoying frenemy who lives at the same gentleman's club. I imagine George Sanders in this role....more
once I got over the mental hurdle of THERE'S FUCKING ZOMBIES SURROUNDING THE COUNTRY HOUSE, WHY IS EVERYONE WORRIED ABOUT SOLVING A DAMN MURDER MYSTERonce I got over the mental hurdle of THERE'S FUCKING ZOMBIES SURROUNDING THE COUNTRY HOUSE, WHY IS EVERYONE WORRIED ABOUT SOLVING A DAMN MURDER MYSTERY, this turned out to be a pretty absorbing experience. because I'm a fan of both country house and locked room murder mysteries, and also zombies devouring the living, this mash-up successfully pushed some very specific pleasure buttons. and I appreciate that the wave of zombies surrounding the house essentially made this a double locked room mystery - woah! now that's different.
I think I guessed the killer? I mean, I did figure it was that one character and I was right, but I also thought it could have been that other character, or possibly that other other character. let's just say that I figured it out, super-smart mystery-solver over here. but I never figured out the how and in locked room murder mysteries, that's half the deal. so I guess I'm only half-smart.
Imamura is a fine writer. deft characterization, tight pacing, conundrums, all the good things. kudos to the translator.
don't do like I did and try to set some horror novel atmosphere by reading this late at night along with some sinister music. I was absolutely not scared and the novel is not trying to scare anyone. it's an intellectual exercise and a fine one at that. gruesome riddles not screams of terror. there are multiple zombie attacks, sure, but the feel is more Who killed Colonel Mustard with the candlestick in the library? than angsty scared folks trapped in a house vs Walking Dead.
synopsis: a bunch of mainly female students and some loathsome graduates who are on a pussy hunt all find themselves trapped by zombies in a country house; as the zombies begin taking over the house floor by floor, various predatory assholes in the group start getting picked off one by one by a mysterious yet relatable killer. go killer go!...more
the idiotic New York Times Book Review apparently thinks The Guest List "evokes the great Agatha Christie" which is an actual disservice to both Christhe idiotic New York Times Book Review apparently thinks The Guest List "evokes the great Agatha Christie" which is an actual disservice to both Christie and Lucy Foley. this is set on an island like And Then There Were None but so is Lord of the Flies and a thousand other books. otherwise, where are the damn similarities? nowhere! JFC I'm annoyed by stupid things. but that blurb is frickin annoying!
anyway, this was very Eh? Eh! it's one of those Hate The Rich type books where everyone who's rich is an obnoxious piece of shite who deserves to get murdered. I recently watched Triangle of Sadness and Bacarau and enjoyed them both, so I guess I'm game for that game? but that attitude towards the wealthy becomes tedious within the confines of a murder mystery, like there are no real stakes because nearly everyone at this party is worthless. the cardboard villainy of basically all of these characters - except for the two not-rich characters who are of course sympathetic (eyeroll) - felt like Foley was over-strenuously playing to what she calculated were her audience's fantasies of plebes versus elites. in the author's note afterwards, Foley goes on about how much she enjoys writing "love to hate" characters but how does anyone love to hate her characters? they are just straight-up hateable plus boring, there's nothing memorable about any of them, no Cruella de Vil energy, no Patrick Bateman energy, just cookie cutter two-dimensional assholes who, if the revolution ever comes, would be taken down to the basement, lined up, shot. these aren't characters you love to hate, they're characters who are too predictable to live. seriously there's an industrial magnate, influencers, and a headmaster in the cast. just kill 'em all already.
anyway, 2 stars not 1 star because Foley does know how to keep me turning the pages. I stayed up way too late in my rush to get to the end. I guess that's something?...more