Every woman in Texas has a dirty little secret.
Don’t let it be true is een ‘dag uit het leven van een gewone vrouw’ verhaal. Alleen komt deze vrouw uit een oud geld familie (maar heeft ze, in geheim, geen geld) en bestrijkt het boek verschillende weken. De lezer mag toch meekijken.
Hoofdpersoon Kathleen probeert een kinderziekenhuis overeind te houden, haar society vrienden voor te liegen dat ze rijk is en haar vriend tevreden te houden ondanks Dat Andere Geheim. Natuurlijk gaat dat een paar keer fout, want de genresticker geeft tenslotte chick lit aan. Daarom zijn de bijpersonen ook tweedimensionaal en de details van kleding en interieurs zeer aanwezig.
Barett schrijft vlot en zonder de tierelantijntjes die slechtere chick lit vaak de nek omdraaien. Het is allemaal een tikje absurd, maar nooit op een irriterende manier. Dat en het feit dat het maar 298 pagina’s, maakt DLIBT een kleurrijk maar toch smakelijk petit fourtje.
Don’t let it be true, Jo Barrett, Avon 2009
It was the night before new moon, during the darkest hours when even that bare sliver had set.
Like a fresh breath of Technicolor air after The Pregnant Widow. The Desert Spear made me a very happy fantasy fan.
TDS is part of a trilogy (aptly named Demon Trilogy) but can be read as stand alone as well. That’s already quite the feat in this genre full of unnecessary follow ups and ‘let’s pull this book apart into three books’, but that’s a not-related frustrating issue. TDS tells the story of a world where the night isn’t safe. Because every night, all kind of demons (wooden, rock, wind and so on) will rise from the grounds and attack everything that isn’t warded. Humankind knows some of those wards, but not all of them. And of course there is a faith that says the demons are a God’s punishment that can only be stopped by a Deliverer.
In this book, there are two of those. One of them who really could be it, an ordinary guy from the North, who by others is made into a hero, even though he doesn’t want it. And the other, a wünderkind from the South with a mighty army behind him and who has given himself the title. And they used to be friends.
A lot happens in The Desert Spear and telling would only be over sharing. But this book manages to create a world, a bad guy, and two less than annoying ‘heroes’ while entertaining you along the way as well. After reading the first book (The Painted Man) I wasn’t sure if there would be a follow up and I did a little dance when I saw this book in the library. It hasn’t disappointed me a bit, even throwing me off (as a crazy book lady, I like to be surprised) when it came to romance and plot lines.
It is fantasy though, remember that. If you’re completely averse to that, don’t bother. But if you want to try some, TDS or its predecessor are a great starting place.
The Desert Spear, Peter V. Brett, Harper Voyage 2010
They had driven into town from the castle; and Keith Nearing walked the streets of Montale, Italy, from car to bar at dusk, flanked by two twenty-year-old blondes, Lily and Scheherazade …
You know that alternative themed party that your friends (and the Internet) have been raving about, while to you it only looked like a students’ common room with cheap alcohol and high ‘philosophical’ conversations? This book is that party and I didn’t get why it was so cool.
You’d think it would be fun for a reviewer to review a book you didn’t like. Just use every kind of it sucked known to man and you’re done. But that’s not reviewing, nor giving a proper opinion (arguments, remember?).
So, here goes my try.
The Pregnant Widow is 465 pages of obnoxious twenty (and up) year olds who can only think of sex and (British) novels, women who are called cock a lot, using words and adding their dictionary definitions and not much else. There is no insight into any of the characters, no jokes, cynicism or even details of their surroundings. It’s only self-pity and uninspired meetings written in such a way that make you wonder how an author can fill so many pages with so little. I dragged myself by my hair through this book, through this day-to-day holiday life of a mentally-bloated kid.
Other reviews speak about the book as a memoir of the start of feminism, the end of youth and dark humor. Maybe I expected too much, maybe I didn’t dig deep enough. For me, it simply was a disappointment. Next time I want to read whining about people not sleeping with you, I’ll visit any teenage message board. It’s much less long-winded.
The Pregnant Widow, Martin Amis, Cape 2010
Henry’s second novel, written, like his first, under a pen name, had done well.
The most recent Yann Martell. Finding a snappy pop culture reference and/or worn out cliché that can cover this book will probably cost me more time than reading the book itself did.
Beatrice and Virgil are not only characters from Dante’s The Divine Comedy, but since Martell’s novel, also a donkey and a monkey. They are characters in a play that the protagonist, sort-of-ex writer Henry, chances upon. The play and accompanying letters lead him to a taxidermist and -for Henry- a complete unknown world. At first Henry is charmed and can appreciate this road to an exciting life, although the taxidermist and play-writer is a bit of a weirdo. But slowly signs crop up that the taxidermist isn’t a weirdo in a nice, socially-accepted way and Henry has to re-evaluate his enthusiasm.
While the previous book I reviewed was clearly from the category of Easy To Review, this book catapults me into Think About It. Beatrice & Virgil is (deceivingly) colorful, bright, detailed (Martell puts you inside the taxidermy store), aching and uncomfortable. There are no chapters and little space to come up for air. The faster you read it, the more time you spend on it, the more it pulls you in and eats you up until it drops the climax in your lap. Do with it as you will, but here it is.
Read this book? Yes. You are brought into someone else’s life, into someone else’s experience without plodding through hundreds of pages or needing all of your concentration. Book some time and brain space for it? Definitely.
Beatrice & Virgil, Yann Martel, Canongate 2010
A flash of light filled his skull as it struck the rock floor.
Simon Toyne’s Sanctus was categorized by the library as detective/thriller. It could also be categorized in the Indiana Jones/National Treasure category, to get the first pop culture reference out of the way. In this book we have secret sects, evil monks, Siamese twins, something referring to immortality and yes – we cross half the world in less than 500 pages.
Toyne manages to introduce a lot of characters, maybe even too many. By the end of the book I still only cared about three of them and his plain description of every character (red/dark/black wind jacket, long hair) doesn’t make it easier to recognize in whose chapter we are this time. Besides that there are some scenes that wouldn’t go through National Treasure’s kid-friendly ratings, using detailed wound descriptions and a fleshed-out visit to the morgue.
Am I looking for problems here? Just a bit. Because besides these two points, Sanctus is entertaining, throws some lovely conspiracies around, gives you small surprises and not to be forgotten: is very accessible to read. So grab it from your library (or Amazon, if detective/adventure/travel is completely your reading kink) and enjoy. And try hard to remember how it exactly went a week after you finished it, because this is a story that won’t stay with you for long.
Sanctus: Revelation or devastation?, Simon Toyne, Harper 2011