More books, Pt. 1

Tired today (went to bed at 5:00 a.m., woke up at 10:30), so just the basics, so I can get rid of the pile of books under my desk...

Last Wednesday (Wed. before last?  1/12/11) I finished Valerio Massimo Manfredi's The Ides of March.  Enjoyed it, but definitely wasn't blown away.  As I recall, I read about this book, or possibly another one by the same author, in one of the Harvard Bookstore monthly newsletters, and was captivated by the awesomeness of the the name "Valerio Massimo Manfredi."  The book is interesting, a run down of the last day's before Ceasar's assasination, but I wasn't so impressed with the plot or writing (granted, it's a translation) that I would read another of Valerio Massimo Manfredi's other books. 
Then I picked back up a novel by Fiona Mountain (another great name) that I had abandoned weeks, if not longer, before and forgotten about - Lady of the Butterflies, a historical romance - I guess - inspired by the real Eleanor Glanville who was a Restoration-era entomologist.  I don't remember what made me request the book from deposit, but I do remember being totally embarassed when I checked it out, the cover of this particular edition being so freaking cheesy.  I read a couple chapters (in December, maybe?) and then put it aside until I stumbled across it after finishing The Ides of March and needing something else to read because I couldn't sleep.  Overall, I was really not a fan, and don't think I will read one of Ms. Mountain's books again.  I will say, I think she did a nice job of describing life in rural England, and London, from 1662 to 1695 - all the mud and muck and filth, the anxious neighbors of dawning reason and science with slow-to-die superstitions.  Even the politics, ever-present but frequently serving only as backdrop, or catalyst, for local and personal turmoil, was somewhat realistic.  But the story was just ridiculous.  Overwrought drama and romance and danger, with what seemed to me like clumsily interlaced sex scenes.  Mostly I think my issue was just that I kept wanting to shake all the characters and make them talk to each other.  I realize some of that is the time the book is set in, but Mountain goes out of her way to create a heroine, and some other characters, who are open-minded, advanced, and like to taaaaaaaalk, so it was frustrating when they just didn't talk to one another honestly and get on with their lives, without all the soap opera nonsense kicking in.  I didn't realize until the end of the book, when I reached the historical note, that Eleanor Glanville was a real person, and that some of the drama was real, so I suppose I should cut Mountain a little slack, but mostly it just makes me want to go read the actual biographies of the woman.  I did notice that Mountain referred to some very decent historical works (including David Cressy) in her acknowledgements, which also makes me feel a little more kindly towards her, if not towards the story.
Of course, I didn't enjoy the story so much that I didn't happily put it down when Kate Morton's The Distant Hours came into my hot little hands!  The two readers of this blog will know that I was a huge fan of her earlier books, The Forgotten Garden and The Shifting Fog (which I read when it was called The House at Riverton).  While in the end I don't think I liked this one as much as those two, I still really, really enjoyed it.  A whopping 497 pages (and hardcover!), I just poured myself into it.  It seems clear that Morton is stuck on the idea of two stories unfolding side by side, as the characters in the present seek to unravel the secrets of the past, but then device works for her, so I have no problem with her staying with it (God, that sounds pretentious!).  In this case a daughter in present(ish) day London sttumbles across her mother's hither-to secret time spent during World War II in a country house filled with loving (more or less) but strange characters - including the reclusive and mysterious author of a massively popular and influential horror story for children, which the protagonist fell in love with as a child.  From then on, the two stories circle around and through each other, with all the different plots and secrets tangling and untangling.  So - not my favorite of Morton's books, but still a great book, and I am just as eager as ever for her next one to come out.

Second Rounds, Part 2 and Other News

Finished Conspirata - it picked up towards the end a bit, but we'll see if I remember about the trilogy by the time the third book comes out, whenever that may be.
On a brighter note, C. listened to The Secret History of the Pink Carnation the other weekend when she had a long trip to a wedding, and is now embarked on The Deception of the Emerald Ring (and maybe, by now, The Masque of the Black Tulip).  I am pleased to report that she is feeling much better about the series now that the annoying narrator-voice is over with - and, as I assured her, Amy, from Pink, is the least appealing of all the heroines of the series, by far.

Second rounds

This was the week/end of going with the obvious answers...
Read the second Rev. Merrily Watkins book, Midwinter of the Spirit, by Phil Rickman.  Better than the one before it, but still not great.  Slower going, strangely - it dragged a bit.  In this one the experiences Merrily had in the Wine of Angels have led her to become an exorcist - the premise of the rest of the series, apparenly.  It's a little silly, but I like the idea of a modern-day exorcist bopping about rural-ish England.  Plus, the characters are appealing  - I'm growing fond enough of them to keep reading. 



The same is true of Cassandra Clark's The Red Velvet Turnshoe: not great, but I like the main character, Hildegarde, and the political and social setting is drawn well.












Almost done with the sequel to Imperium, Conspirata, by Robert Harris.  Oddly, I liked Imperium more than any of the other "firsts" in these series, but the second in the trilogy (I think it's meant to be a trilogy) is pretty damn boring, considering it should be more exciting - Cicero's consular years, the Catiline conspiracy, etc.  Weird.  Am plugging through, but actually read Velvet Turnshoe in the middle of Conspirata.  Not sure if I'll care enough to read the third when it comes out (I assume it's not out yet, since I think Conspirata came out this winter).

A Pig in Sh*t

So, I am going to be happily wallowing soon - saw Noni this weekend and she gave me a brand-new, gorgeous looking copy of The Long Song, by Andrea Levy, which I have been meaning to read for a while.  And with that in mind, when I was reading a little piece about this year's Man Booker short-list in the Guardian (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/gallery/2010/sep/07/man-booker-prize-shortlist-2010), I started running through Hollis looking for what else is out there.  Managed to reserve the on-order copies of C (Tom McCarthy), The Finkler Question (Howard Jacobsen), and Parrot and Olivier in America (Peter Carey), which means I will have in my hot little hands 4 of the 6 nominees.  Room (Emma Donoghue) and In A Strange Room (Damon Galgut) were both checked out already, and I didn't think I should recall them...although one is due in 2 days anyhow, so maybe I should, before someone else get it...  That's probably enough to have on the shelf, thought, especially since - beyond the normal lack of space for my "to read" collection - I already today picked up Conspirata, the sequel to Imperium, and requested from deposit The Red Velvet Turnshoe (I don't even know what that is, but I like the name a lot!), the sequel to Hangman Blind.  Speaking of those two, I read both over the weekend.
Started Hangman Blind, by Cassandra Clark (can that really be her real name?  good for her if it is) after the Rickman book (hmm, should consider having some of those on hand for sick days).  I liked it, I guess.  A bit predictable, especially with the love interests, and some rather heavy-handed foreshadowing on the same for the next books (I was reading it and thinking, okay, it's like she's setting us up for fictional r&d ("revelations and developments" - yes, just coined that phrase...I think...) for another book, and then sure enough I was reading the quotes on the cover later, and one of them revealed that Hangman Blind was intended as the commencement of a series featuring the book's main character, Sister Hildegard.  Hildegard, a recent widow & nun in 1382 England is a decent character, not too prone to anachronistic independence or feminism.  And what she has of both (and I've read enough of these types of novels to know that you can't escape them in a heroine) is fairly legitimately explained by her being the widow of a rich man - thus, she has some exposure to the world, and learning, and also more freedom than as a married woman.  It's not perfect, by any means, but it works - enough so, clearly, that I'm going to read the sequel - and Clark does a nice job showing the unsettled nature of a time and place where Saxons struggle still against Norman overlords, even if the Conqueror is long since buried, and two popes vie for supremacy as Wat Tyler's followers look for a new direction, and a young king and his supporters and enemies try to rule England.
Imperium, by Robert Harris, was the next book, and it wasn't what I was expecting - in a good way.  Much less the toga-clad, murder-mystery pot-boiler I was expecting, and more a fun, super accessible tale of Cicero's rise to prominence.  I had put Imperium on the "to read" list because it's the predecessor to Conspirata which got a Select 70 mention in a Harvard Bookstore flyer this winter (I think this winter?) - and that, I thought, was a murder mystery that happened to be set in Cicero's Rome.  But this, purportedly the memoirs of Cicero's personal secretary/slave, Tiro, talks about how Cicero trained as an orator, prominent cases and speeches, and takes us from his initial entrance into Roman political life to his election as Consul in 64 BCE.  It really was quite fun - all the gossip and scandal and deal-mongering of today's elections and politics, but with togas :)  The issue of imperium in the Roman Republic could have been drawn out more, but that would have been a different book...