Death to Pemberley

Okay, okay, so it's not actually that bad (although I'm sure my readers are super-excited by more Austen, yesh? *glares meaningfully*).  My most recent read was P.D. James's latest release, Death Comes to Pemberley, which I found neither dreadful nor stellar.  The fact that I kept accidentally referring to the book as Death to Pemberley, however, is telling.  But, I am happy to say that although the novel started as a fairly meh read for me, James had me smiling by the end (if only a little... okay, there were a few grins).

The Basics
James, P.D. Death Comes to Pemberley. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2011. Print.

I typically avoid Jane Austen sequels as I find most tedious and poorly written, but James's Death Comes to Pemberley had an interesting premise that drew my attention. I also knew that the author had a long a respected history. P.D. James is a British author who has written at least 20 books, many of which have been adapted to film.  She is famous as a mystery writer, particularly for her character Adam Dalgliesh. James was born in 1920, has a rather impressive background in British government, was made the Baroness of Holland Park in 1991(which is pretty darn spiffy, let's face it), and has excellent taste in scarves.*

Death Comes to Pemberley really begins with the arrival of Lydia Wickham to the estate, screaming that her husband has been murdered.  It is soon discovered that the ever dramatic Lydia was wrong, and that it is instead Mr. Wickham's friend who has perished.  Wickham, found covered in blood and shouting about it being his fault, is soon arrested for murder.  Though perfidious, Wickham does not tend toward violence, and the rest of the novel follows his journey through the early 19th century justice system as seen through the eyes and experience of Mr. Darcy.

The Book
I really wanted to whole-heartedly like this book, but there were just one too many details that made me twitch. The novel can be divided into writing with two distinct purposes: 1) mimicking Austen and grounding the book in the world of Pride and Prejudice and 2) spinning a successful murder mystery in its chosen setting.  James succeeds at the latter with an expected ease, but her attempts to conjure Austen often fall short. Since this is to be a mixed review, let me begin with what I disliked about the book.

The language James uses when writing parts primarily relating to the mystery is fluid, easy, and engaging.  But, when the novel strays from the mystery and attempts to connect to Pride and Prejudice, the writing does not come close to doing Austen justice. I never expected James to be able to approach Austen's style of writing, but at times, James clearly tries to mimic Austen's style and tone to the detriment of the book.  In these moments the language is stiff and not engaging, whereas Austen's prose flows well and pulls readers in.  Long, convoluted sentences that are almost paragraphs themselves (and don't always match from beginning to end) do not make a period tone and certainly don't approach Austen's style.  Even when pulling phrasing directly from Pride and Prejudice, James does not quite achieve her goal. Given the notable change in language, style and construction during the mystery parts, I really wish James had stayed consistent and true to her own, quite readable, style.

I also found her characterization of a few favorite figures to be flawed.  I did not like or agree with her characterization of the people of Meryton (as a group) and their jealous interpretation of Elizabeth's acceptance of Mr. Darcy as well as their general dislike of Elizabeth. I thought this seemed at odds with Elizabeth's representation in the book. Her account of Kitty's future is also contrary to the original book, which clearly states at its conclusion that, to her benefit, she spent most of her time with Jane and Elizabeth after their marriages (though I did find the account of Mary's marriage a nice touch).  But most particularly, I disliked her characterization of Colonel Fitzwilliam.  James's sketch of the Colonel paints a very different sort of personality than the affable Colonel of Pride and Prejudice, and I don't find her explanation as likely to account for the drastic shift in personality.  I understand that James needed to change his character to fit her chosen story line and add an air of mystery, but I still don't like it.  Blessedly, James's characterizations of Darcy, Elizabeth, Lydia, Wickham, and Mr. Bennet are mostly on point.

But enough of my dislikes.  While the parts intending to evoke Pride and Prejudice might drag, the mystery makes up for it.  The mystery surrounding the murder victim's fate is well written and very engaging.  I wanted to know what happened and sped through the novel well enough to find out. Fortunately, once readers work past the sketchy opening, most of the novel follows the mystery towards its solution.  It also provided a really interesting look at the British justice system (though I admit, I have no idea how accurate it is), which James and her background can easily supply.  I enjoyed the tension and dramatic buildup of the investigation, inquest, and trial.  And the solution to Wickham's predicament, even if it arrives via dues ex machina (which I'll not spoil with details), is an exciting enough relief to the tension which has, at that point, reached its height.

Even as I disliked the opening, I largely enjoyed James's conclusion to the novel.  Her disposal of Wickham and Lydia provided them with a reasonable expectation of starting over while tidily removing them from the possibility of further inconveniencing the Darcys.  James's method of acheiving this was unexpected but believable and enjoyable. I also got a kick of her solution for the placement of the little boy (I'll say no more, though I'm sure you'll suspect within a few chapters), and the reference to Emma elicited my first real grin, like the proper Austen-nerd I am.  The concluding conversation between Darcy and Elizabeth threatens to fall back into the disappointment of previous passages, but is saved by Elizabeth's announcement, which could only make me smile.

Despite my qualms with some of the novel, overall, I found Death Comes to Pemberley to be an enjoyable little mystery and a worthwhile read.

Extras

*Just look at that scarf

• Might I direct you to the official website of P.D James? (No? Too bad, I just did).
• Or, perhaps you'd like to know more about the Baroness, including her favorite food and weapon?
• You could also spend some time perusing James's FAQ, which reveals as much about writing as it does the author.
• Lastly, though I've mentioned it before, here's Wikipedia's page on dues ex machina.

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The Cat's Meow

I'll admit it, I'm forcing myself to write this post tonight.  Y'all are getting a post on a series that I'm a little over halfway through, because I still (yes, still) have not powered my way through Anne Patchett's State of Wonder (don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying it, it's just not a quick read).  So, tonight, I'm going to post about Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown's Mrs. Murphy Mystery Series.  What kind of author is named Sneaky Pie, you ask: a cat!

The Basics
As of May 2011, there are nineteen books in this series.  That's right, 19!  And they're awesome!  The Mrs. Murphy books are cozy mysteries, meaning they're nice and light and fluffy (in this case, literally. Har har). In reading order, the books are (*deep breath*) Wish You Were Here; Rest in Pieces; Murder at Monticello; Pay Dirt; Murder, She Meowed; Murder on the Prowl; Cat on the Scent; Pawing through the Past; Claws and Effect; Catch as Cat Can; The Tail of the Tip-off; Whisker of Evil; Cat's Eyewitness; Sour Puss; Puss in Cahoots; The Purrfect Murder; Santa Clawed; Cat of the Century; and Hiss of Death.

Got that?  As you can see, the majority of the titles include a cat-themed pun, which naturally appeals to my cheesy little heart.  The books follow the adventures of heroine, Mary Minor "Harry" Harristeen, the local postmistress of tiny, rural Crozet, Virginia.  Harry has a sense of curiosity that rivals any feline, and is routinely involving herself in mysteries that crop up in the area.  Fortunately, she is also aided by her pet tiger-cat (read Tabby) Mrs. Murphy and corgi Tucker and their numerous animal cohorts.  The two intrepid detectives are determined to protect their human, helping Harry along in solving mysteries as best they can.

The Books

Of course, the heavy feline presence throughout the books appeals to my cat-loving nature, but these books are so much more than just warm and fuzzy.  First and foremost, they are excellently written, well-plotted murder-mysteries.  The story moves along at a galloping pace as the characters (animal and human alike) rush to find the solutions to the puzzle with which they are presented.  While following the basic tenants of mystery writing - introducing the murderous character early on and dropping clues along the way - the stories are rarely predictable.  While I can usually (though not always) solve the mystery before it's revelation in the book, I always feel a sense of achievement for having done so. Not once have I been disappointed by too easy a solution.  Nor does Brown resort to hiding things from her readers in order to maintain the mystery (a device which I find cheap and annoying).  Everything you need to solve the plot is provided; you just have to follow the clues (and try not to let your dull human senses get in the way, as Mrs. Murphy would caution).

Brown also imbues her novels with a light, witty sense of humor.  This necessarily prevents the stories from becoming overly serious and also combats the potential ridiculousness of highly intelligent animals.  Speaking of whom, I am pleased to report that the animals are completely believable as characters, especially to anyone already inclined to provide pets with a voice (who me?).  The animals are every bit as intelligent as their human counterparts, however, they are still very much animals.  Mrs. Murphy sees the world through a very cat-like perspective, and Tucker is very much a dog. For example, the animals often rely on their sense of smell to help them solve the mystery at hand, a sense that is much more highly utilized by the animal world than the human.  The animals also behave as animals might: tearing through the house in a fits of anger, hunting mice, and begging for scraps from the table.

One of my favorite aspects of the series is the very vivid sense of place and people. As you're reading, you can practically feel your lungs breathing in the air that is Crozet, Virginia.  Brown has clearly rooted her town in a place and history with which she is very familiar.  Readers come away with a sense that this town could really exist, and more so, they come away with a sense of the South and of Virginia.  Brown's characters are also especially well developed (and, really, given the length of the series they'd better be); you come away with a real sense of each recurring character's strengths, weaknesses, wants, needs, etc.  Readers also witness the characters grow over the course of the series, moving through personal trials and reforming opinions.  Brown has created a literary world where readers witness the place and the people change and evolve.  This creates a binding thread that runs throughout the series, connecting readers to each book despite the varied central plots.

And really, what's not to love about a series with a book entitled Whisker of Evil co-authored by cat?

Extras

• Don't forget to visit the author's webpage, filled with fun facts about the author and her writings.
• Definitely read her mini autobiography while you're there.  For just a taste of her delightful sense of humor, here's an excerpt: "My entrance occurred on November 28, 1944, and the cats, hounds, and horses of the world rejoiced.  The humans didn't give a damn. What do they know?"
• And of course the site for the Mrs. Murphy books themselves.
• Because credit must go where it is due, here's a photo of both authors, most importantly, the illustrious Sneaky Pie:

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You Give Me . . . Fever?

Today's book is Darkfever by Karen Marie Moning.  I have been tempted once again by the siren call of a series.  There's just something about being able to immerse myself in a fictional world, not once but repeatedly, that holds and almost endless appeal for me.  I'm already looking forward to the next book (I already have all 5 stacked on my coffee table fresh from the library) so much that I can hardly force myself to write this before moving on.  Ironically, this is a blog post that almost wasn't, since I was initially put off of the Fever series by repeated descriptions and classifications of the books as Romances. (Blegh. Yucky!) But after reading a more detailed summary, I decided that these books might be for me after all.

The Basics
Moning, Karen Marie. Darkfever. Detroit: Thorndike P., 2006. Print.

Karen Marie Moning a #1 New York Times Best-Selling Author is the author of two successful series and the recipient of the RITA award. The Highlander series, which I am given to understand feature time-travel and ruggedly handsome Scotsman, are a set of paranormal romances.  Her second series, which we'll be concerned with here in my blog, begins with Darkfever, an Urban Fantasy set in Ireland.  In this book, our intrepid heroine travels to Ireland to avenge the death of her murdered sister, discovering in the process a world filled with dangerous fae and her own recently uncovered power to see such creatures.

The Book

So, funny story, my mother was over at my apartment last night with my Aunt, who was looking through my book stack.  My mom saw Darkfever sitting on the table; the author's last name is the most prominent thing on the cover.  She saw this and exclaimed, "that's not how you spell it!" To which I replied, "Mom! That's her name!  She can spell it however she likes." She had mistaken it for the book's title and thought it should have been "moaning," which given the cover art on this edition* would, indeed, seem apt (see extras).

Which brings me to my single gripe (that is no fault of the book): why was this billed as a romance in some places?  Is it because Moning is well-known for romance?  Do romances simply sell?  Moning's website, certainly doesn't caste the book this way; there it is billed as Urban Fantasy, a category that makes much more since.  But perhaps I am in the minority when I am repulsed by heaving bosoms being ripped from their bodices by the burly Brawny man.  Yes, I realize that not all romance novels fit that bill and some are quite good fiction, but that stereotype was roughly how I first saw this book described. I suppose I am indignant because I came so close to missing out on a truly wonderful and absorbing book. According to the Romance Writers of America website "all romances contain a central love story," which was conspicuously absent from Darkfever.  Although, I suppose there is potential for one to develop over the course of the series.  I must admit to some confusion about the romance genre.  Tons of books feature a romance but are categorized as mysteries, fantasy, or just plain fiction.  I guess I just don't see the point, and maybe more research is in order.  Ultimately, I like my books with plenty of plot and character with just a smidge of romance, like a condiment, to add a little extra spice.

But enough about genre, because this book is far too good to get caught up on that.  For the first time in quite a while, I found myself so completely absorbed in a book that everything around became irrelevant.  Time and being directly addressed were completely ignored. Rather than being able to read while at the same time surfing the net and watching my boyfriend play video games, I was unable to peel my eyes away from the page.

Narrated in first person by the heroine, much of the book relies on character development.  And Mackayla Lane is delightfully flawed.  A tiny bit selfish and initially lacking in motivation, Mac is spunky and full of bluster, and we follow her along as she slowly learns her way around the world she's stumbled into.  Her constant urge to stick her head in the sand and enter a state of denial can be especially frustrating, but it's also what makes her character. As the plot forces her toward a state of enlightenment, we get to watch her character grow, and this makes her entirely believable.  Rather than jumping in with a strong kick-ass heroine who jumps in and out of an unbelievable number of scrapes only to come out scathed but even badassier than before (*cough* AnitaBlake*cough*), we instead have a character whose innocence and capacity for denial starts her from a weak point and we get to see her grow gradually stronger, learning as she goes.

It also helps that Mackayla is highly relatable.  I had my doubts from the moment I first read her name and thought, "Mackayla? Seriously?" However, after a little poking around I discovered that this is an Americanized spelling of the traditionally Irish name, Michaela.  I decided that maybe it might be okay, and I could forget about my associations with that ill-mannered country girl who smacked her mouth loudly as she chewed her gum in 10th grade political science.  Also, the nickname of Mac is way cool. But I digress.  Mac is relatable as a thoroughly modern heroine, who listens to her ipod and can actually use a computer (I'm looking at you Sookie Stackhouse). I also like that she's distinctly southern; being from the South myself, southern heroines hold a special place in my heart.  She comments on such topics as manners and hospitality that leave me giggling: "When I opened my door, I discovered someone had been busy while I'd slept. A bakery bag, a bottled latte, and my luggage were outside my door.  Down South store-bought food outside your bedroom door isn't a treat - it's an insult. . . . Stay out of my kitchen, the bag said, and don't go looking around. Down South it meant, Leave before lunch, preferably now. (161).  The expression of her grief over the loss of her sister also helps make Mackayla a relatable human rather than one-dimensional. Moning depicts this so well that it feels as if it's the expression of real emotion rather than the made up mourning of a non-existent character.

As much as Darkfever relies on Mac's character, it is also driven by plot, particularly mystery.  Jericho Barrons's (stop snorting at the name, please; nah, go ahead) could be accused of being a one-dimensional character, but I would argue otherwise.  His character is instead left intentionally shrouded in mystery, so that the uncovering of tidbits about his character becomes an essential plot element as well. It helps that his physical presence in the book is every bit as vivid for the reader as it is for the characters he interacts with; he exudes energy, brio, and menace.  It is only at the very end of the book that the reader can stop flip-flopping about whether his character is good or not . . . maybe.

And the mystery of Barrons's character is only one of many plot threads that Moning weaves into her story.  We follow Mackayla in her efforts to discover her sister's murderer.  We watch as Mac learns new truths about herself.  We delve into a whole new world right along with her. We doggedly keep following Mac as she traces the whereabouts of ancient Fae relics and ultimately as she discovers herself participating in the beginnings of an underground war.  Fun, right?

The whole book is about discovery, and it drags the reader in, captivating them as much as any Fae. Urban fantasy, with the occasional mirror-fogging scene, Darkfever was a great read.  And now, I'm going to abandon further blogging in favor of the next book!

*Please note my page numbers may seem odd since I'm working from a large print edition as it was the only one in the library when my greedy little paws proceeded to check out the entire series. Heh heh.

Extras

• For more information about the author and/or her series, please consider her website.
• For information on Romance and its sub-genres see the RWA website.
• Looking for name information? Try this webpage.
• This is the picture from the cover of the large print edition my mother saw.  I couldn't get the freaking thing to format properly in the post above, hence it's position down here. *shakes fist at blogger interface*

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Memoirs, Mennonites, and Mmmmmm . . . Borscht!

For my first posting I've selected the book Mennonite in a Little Black Dress: A Memoir of Going Home by Rhoda Janzen.  This is the first nonfiction book I've read in full (and for fun, no less) in quite some time, and, no, all those books from grad school don't count.  Carlyle is many things, but I doubt you could accuse him of being fun.  I thought it would make a fine starting point given that the book a) is fantastic and b) occasionally dedicates some serious focus to food.

The Basics

Janzen, Rhoda. Mennonite in a Little Black Dress: A Memoir of Going Home. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2009. Print.
(Clearly, MLA citation form has been branded into my brain. I tried to do it differently, but I just couldn't stop twitching.) 
Dr. Janzen, poetess and writer extraordinaire, currently teaches English and Creative Writing at Hope College in Holland, Michigan. Having lived outside the Mennonite community of her childhood for years, she returns home to recover from a rather nasty relationship and a painful car accident.  The book documents her sabbatical spent with family along with other episodes in her life.

The Book
Anywho, the book first caught my eye when I came across the title one day at work.  I'm always somewhat impressed by catchy titles, since naming anything is something I struggle with whenever required (we won't talk about all the titles I went through for this blog.  Lalalalaaaa... I can't heeeear you!). This title packs a lot of punch.  You have the juxtaposition of the two disparate concepts of mennonites and LBDs, which effectively draws a potential reader's attention through a contrast that makes us go "Schwaaa?" The title also declares itself a memoir, alerting readers to its position firmly in the realm of biography, as opposed to romantic fiction about mennonites (seriously, Beverly Lewis, wtf?*)

The book itself is well-written, with a nice mix of hilarity and self-examination. It was at the end of chapter 5 that I realized I was already half-way through the book and the chapters were a bit on the long side. I remember thinking at the time that Janzen was definitely an academic, but I'm shudderingly grateful to be able to say that Janzen's prose is highly engaging and at times hysterically funny.  For example, she constantly references the man her husband left her for as "Bob the guy from Gay.com," a repetition I find amusing.

Janzen's descriptions of people, mostly her family, are what drives this memoir forward, engaging, delighting, and occasionally infuriating her audience. Her mother, is easily my favorite.  Janzen's descriptions of her mother create a picture of someone who is both the funniest and most endearing person in the book. At times her mother is releasing epically audible farts in the middle of Kohl's (163-65) or as Janzen describes it: "This was the Moses of all farts, a leader of its kind. The trump shall sound! It shall rouse us to action! I could not believe that my own mother had produced such a remarkable acoustic effect.  In public" (164). At other times, she's astutely questioning what she interprets as Janzen's sudden desire to hide her legs and, in a way, encouraging her daughter's recovery (both emotional and physical) from the car accident (217-18). By the end of the book you have no doubt as to why Janzen dedicated the book to her mother.

Meanwhile, her ex-husband, stories and memories of whom are interspersed throughout the text, is such a complete and utter d-bag that you want to leap into the pages and slap him around a bit.  Janzen describes his abuses (though I don't remember her explicitly labeling them as such, that's exactly what they were) in way that makes your heart clench a little more for her with each memory (see for example 83 -91).  Throughout these painful moments, Janzen does a brilliant job describing her own thoughts and emotions with a startling level of honesty.

Just as her descriptions of people drive the book, Janzen's constant relation of the book to various aspects of her Mennonite culture and heritage provides a connecting thread that runs throughout the memoir.  While the book enlightens readers to many aspects of Mennonite life, naturally, my favorites are the parts about food.  I spent a large part of reading this book with my mouth watering, lusting after the tastily described Zwiebach buns.  Janzen also describes such deliciousness as Warmer Kartoffelsalat, a hot and "tangy" potato salad (107).  But the food that fascinates me the most is Borscht, which Janzen describes as both amazingly tasty and incredibly embarrassing when packed in school lunches (111-13).  Borscht interests me for three reasons: 1) it sounds interesting and I have a thing for soups, 2) it's fun to say and 3) it also sounds foul.  Borscht, I learned, is made from cabbage and beets, creating a vibrant and pungent red soup, which is then served with vinegar and sour cream.  As a lover of both soup and vinegar, Borscht sounds pretty good; it seems like it'd be fun to learn how to make. However, I also loathe cabbage and beets, and so this soup simultaneously fascinates and disgusts me.  Simply the smell of beets is enough to set my stomach churning and hasten up memories of being force fed the gag-inducing root vegetable.  Thus, I must decline to ever apply my cooking skills to Borscht, but those raisin-walnut persimmon cookies, platz, and Zweibach might merit further culinary investigation.

Overall, Mennonite in a Little Black Dress makes for a thoroughly enjoyable read. The book makes you think about relationships, warms your heart and tells the rather engaging story of the author's life.  By welcoming you into the home of her Mennonite family, Janzen also illuminates a culture that few of us know much about beyond the surface. I fully plan to add this memoir to my own shelves someday soon.

*okay, so some of those are about the Amish, too, but still.
Extras

• For her take on the writing of the book, visit Janzen's webpage.
• Or for a recipe for Borscht try Janzen's Mennonite Primer. I have to say, even I might consider it with tomato soup instead of beets . . . 

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