Alliteration in the Litticher

The Stabbing In The Stables by Simon Brett


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
Surprise, surprise! I had read this one before. I didn't recognize the title (although it should be memorable) before picking it up, but as I went on it started sounding more familiar. Typical with me, although I remembered bits and pieces of it, most of it was still a mystery to me and required little or no yelling at the book. In this book Jude and Carole lament their lack of access to forensic evidence. The police just make things so hard for the amateur sleuth! Jude's uncharacteristic attention to detail and an overly handy diary solve one mystery.
I like the way Brett sums things up at the end of each of these books. He tells you what happens to the various characters - I guess so you don't worry about them or you get all cross if they got away with something because they're well-connected or rich and powerful.
In a side note, I don't do the same reading Jude does ... where does one read about "the connection between horse mutilation and paedophilia"?! In The Journal of the Horse Mutilators and The Paedophilia Gazette?
Note on my edition, which was a large print version: Ha ha! Book cover is decorated with a cowboy boot and a lariat. [Shakes head at Wheeler Publishing.]

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You Are Invited to a Necktie Party

The Hanging in the Hotel by Simon Brett


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
For a change, I didn't yell once at this book. No one was doing anything particularly bone-headed. The confrontation at the end seemed a little contrived, but the results realistic and satisfying, in a non-satisfactory and realistic kind of way.
Brett must really have something against attorneys (not to mention all-male "charitable" organizations). Carole's experiences with her wannabe love-interest grows slimier by the page. Maybe he's just pandering to public tastes.

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Bonehead Villains Unite!

Death on the Downs by Simon Brett


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
Who dunnit? Seems like everyone dunnit. Everyone seems to be guilty of something in this story. You just need to fit the crime to the suspicious character.
I am continually surprised how amateur sleuths can just ring someone up and ask if they can come over and talk about the murder ... and it works!
Carole's early attempt at dating ("How interesting!") was amusing. Gawd, have I been there. I once laughed at every single thing some guy said, as if he were some deadpan comic.
Anyway, enough of my dysfunctional past love life ...
Brett actually includes the obligatory Two Bad Guys Discussing Their Crimes In Front Of the Sleuth so that they have to say, "Oh, now we've said all this in front of her - what do we do with her?" And, in true cozy fashion (although I've seen the same murderer-as-doofus scheme in Stalin's Ghost), the sleuth is left in a position she can either escape from or be rescued from, so the would-be killers don't have to trouble themselves with actually and personally killing a person.
Oh! Oh! And let's not forget the old Policeman And Bad Guy Battle It Out On the Cliff While the Others Watch Helplessly From a Distance!
So, why do I read these books if I find these conventions so annoying? Oh, because I love to complain! I love to regale my poor husband (who wouldn't read one of these with a gun pointed at his head) with these lunatic stories and make tea come out his nose when he can't take it any longer and finally starts laughing. Watching him laugh is the greatest delight in my life.
Of course, books like these also make me look at him warily. I was close to telling him that if he ever wanted a divorce that I would happily grant him one just so he wouldn't strangle me with his bare hands, but when I say things like that he just looks so hurt - as if I'd actually think anything like that about him.Would I read another one? Oh, sure - let me at 'em! Let's see what bone-headed thing comes up in Blood At the Bookies, which seems to be in at the mo'.

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Oh, Gard!

Murder In The Museum by Simon Brett


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I always enjoyed the Charles Paris stories and thought I'd try this from the Fethering series. I will probably read more of these, simply because they're easy and I only yelled at the book once: when the heroine finds the secret priest hole and ventures down it without a "lifeline" (someone who knows where she is, a weapon, a functioning cell phone, enough food for a week - that sort of thing) and then, when not just one but two suspects show up, are annoyed to find her, and have with them someone else they really don't like and send her down into the hole and then ask the heroine to toss up her car keys so they "can move her car" which is in the way AND SHE DOES. Okay, maybe that was just one big looooong yell.

Here's what would happen if I were going looking for a secret priest hole: I'd take a disinterested party with me, when I found the hole, I'd look at it from a distance and then I would leave and report my findings to the local constabulary. Before going down into such a space, I would have: a flashlight with fresh batteries, stout shoes, a quick alternate escape plan (featuring the disinterested party, I'm sure), and my head examined.

The characters were realistic (they can get cartoony in the Cozies) and I suppose the victim was not totally over-the-top as pushy, overbearing, with a touch of sadism. I do have a quibble with the annoying American woman. I don't mind her being annoying and pushy, we are pretty annoying and pushy - that's fair comment. But the concession to an accent was that she said "Gard" all the time. As in, "Oh, Gard!" I'm sure the Brits roll on the floor when we try to do various Blighty accents, but where do they get this impression that we say things like "Gard" and "Americur"? Get it right, it's only in words like "Warshington" and "warter" and even then it's a minority accent. We say, "Oh, gawwwd!"

I'm afraid the dread secret of the Chadleigh's wasn't much of a secret - but it was fun getting there.

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Sparky vs. Dr. Crippen

Thunderstruck by Erik Larson


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
Two stories that should have been interesting, but were left to go on too long. I'd always heard about Dr. Crippen, so I was anxious to read about him and felt a bit disappointed. He only killed one person, someone who was clearly annoying. Granted, the disposal of the body was pretty ghoulish, but all in all you feel sorry for him, except that he was a patent medicine charlatan.
Marconi's parallel life made you wonder why no one killed him, but I guess he was too wealthy. It must be harder to bump someone off when they are staying in the best hotels. His family wealth makes it hard to feel sorry for his difficulties, but he really did work hard at developing wireless telegraphy and like William Smith had run headlong into the British caste system wherein the only thing lower than lower class was foreign. That he spoke perfect English (to the detriment of his Italian) and was from the upper class in his father's country buttered no parsnips. He was not a scientist to boot, but mostly he was foreign and they all knew that the Italians were anarchists. His equipment was confiscated at customs. This may go a long way to explain his hard-nosed business decisions which offended the men that were on his side. Larson chalks that up to his inability to read people, but after the treatment he received, it is no surprise to me that he started looking out for Number One.

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Pour Some Bush Tea and Put Up Your Feet!

The Miracle at Speedy Motors by Alexander McCall Smith


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
The series continues gently on its way: Mma Makutsi and her fiance buying a bed for their future together, Mma Ramotswe searching for a woman's lost family, and Mr. JLB Matekoni looking for a miracle for their adopted daughter.
The detectives receive an anonymous letter berating them, and their reactions are differing. Mma Ramotswe takes it to heart. Mma Makutsi seems to view the world more equably with a wedding in her future - that is, until it rains.
I really enjoy these books, not so much as mysteries, but as little slices of life, like a round slice of orange held up to the light, softly shining. Mma Ramotswe can make her mistakes, but can stand up to them and make them right again, and continues with almost Solomonic wisdom.

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[Insert Bad Pun Here] In Underland

Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Promising myself to read this, I pulled a copy off the shelving cart Thursday, and then forgot it. Pulled it off the shelf yesterday and started it. Whoa! Forget exposition! We're into the action by page 13! And giant cockroaches! No one told me there would be cockroaches. Nor did anyone tell me that farther into the book I'd be crying (while sitting at the Children's Room desk) because one of them died.*

Collins apparently wrote this as a sort of urban Alice in Wonderland, with blood and gore and death and fear and no social commentary. Well, hardly any. The most important feature of this book, I think, is the presence of complex characters, of which I think I counted two. This is something you have to wade through most of the Harry Potter series to find. Is Snape a totally bad person? Who is your enemy?

Anyway, the book has two strong characters, a rollicking good plot, but I quibble with the names. "Gregor"? Who calls their kid that? It would make more sense to have him called Greg/Gregory at home and have the Underlanders call him Gregor. And "Boots" is a name you give to quadrupeds with white paws or hooves, not the baby. Also, there's a big age gap between the siblings ... makes one wonder if any other babies got sucked down the dryer exhaust. [This from someone with nine years between her and her sister.]

*I don't consider this a spoiler because, first of all, there's a prophecy that a certain number of the characters will die and, secondly, you kill one roach and there are 60,000 more to replace it.

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