
Authority and Acceptance round off my first sci-Fi trilogy in a long time, and I wish I could say more positive things about this set by Jeff Van der Meer, both of which I found myself half way through hoping they would end quickly. I don’t think I’m the kind of reader that demands explanations for everything, particularly not in this genre, and I get the whole, say less and let the reader imagine the horror thing too. There was simply not enough meat on the bones here, and it was pretty unsatisfying and long – Authority gave some behind the scenes info on the origins of Area X (was largely fair boring) and the efforts of Lowry to understand it. Acceptance started a little more positively with another mini-mission or two, but did the same vague, circular and repeating storytelling of the Biologist, the Director, the Lighthouse-keeper Saul and the disintegration of Control (the narrator). I’m not recommending this to anyone. 2 stars / 2.5 stars.
The Black Prince (1973) by Iris Murdoch. What an odd, incestuous ride of a novel this is. The 6 or 7 mostly unlikeable and improbable characters jump off the page and are all somewhat in love or envy of each other’s fame or beauty or youth. The protagonist midway falls in love with a peer’s 20 year old daughter and spirits her off much to everyone’s dismay. A woman suicides, a man is killed in a domestic incident, and everyone behaves badly. The postscripts of the remaining characters all disagree what really happened, and the wrong man is sent to prison (supposedly)!. An exuberant, human, but frustrating read ultimately. 4 stars.
The Ambassadors (1903) by Henry James. If I thought after Washington Square that I was going to waltz through this one too, I was very mistaken. It mostly deals with the scruples of a 55 year old man – Strether, who’s been charged with going to France to drag a hedonistic young Chad back to North East America to run the family business, and to the huge wealth that will bring. Upon arriving, the charm of the region and society life begin to work their magic and our ambassador falters somewhat. Never has so little been said in so many self conscious words – the book was completely astounding in its vagueness (to the point of reading many sentences multiple times), and its overwritten circularity. I could never recommend it to a modern reader – in 370 dense pages, pretty much nothing happened, despite me desperately hoping for a twist or revelation in the end. Hugely challenging and unsatisfying for me. 3 stars.
Who names their book the awkward Have his carcase ? Dorothy Sayers or is that Soyers? I didn’t even realise she was a crime writer prior to being captivated by the muted dark green (PMS 368 C) Penguin cover from 1962. I also didn’t realise that Lord Peter Wimsey had a whole series devoted to him, and that he would spend good chunks of this one petitioning a fellow female writer to marry him. At 360 dense pages, the story of a body found on a low lying rock in the ocean took awhile, but was enjoyable and intricate. An entire chapter was devoted to how to technically solve a coded message, complete with a matrix and logic. There were a few references to dagoes too, which made for a shock at first. I’m giving it 4 stars.
I have always found Ottessa Moshfegh completely compelling – an easy read, a nihilistic read too, and this one (My Year of Rest and Relaxation) was to me her most extreme yet, and maybe most irritating. A privileged woman in Manhattan, supposedly mourning the earlier death of her parents, and numb from a breakup with her boyfriend finds a sympathetic psychologist and spends most of a year comatose on whatever medication she can scam. It’s hugely repetitive, and ending is unlikely. Still very fun in parts, but only 3 stars.
Half way through The Eustace Diamonds (1873) by Anthony Trollope, despite being a fairly careful reader, I split the paperback spine somehow – I wasn’t too happy, as it’s hard to get nice copies of this 1980s Penguin set. For a 770 page book, it’s a very slow burn, though things accelerate in the last quarter. I found myself intensely irritated with the main character Lizzie Greythorn/Eustace only to see her escape time and time again without punishment. The hunt scenes were interesting until we got to the bit where the foxes were torn apart by the dogs. Yikes! Some fantastic characters were given full expression: The Scottish estate manager Andy McGowran, whose regular disapproval of his new overseer Lizzie, and her “love making” to cousin Frank was beautifully rendered in full Scot vernacular. Also memorable was the young beauty Miss Roanoke; nihilistic, depressed and determined not to be trapped in a terrible marriage. The men in the book are far more muted and anodine. Lord Fawn, Frank Greythorn – all trapped in expectations of what was expected of them. We don’t get the full fairytale ending, but it’s satisfying enough. Really enjoyed it, though I’m not sure I want to read the whole Palliser and Barsetshire series as they are a huge commitment. 4.5 stars.
Corrupt Bodies (2019) by Peter Everett was a weird followup – an account of the his mid-1980s experience rooting out corruption (and body part / corpse jewellery sales) when running a morgue in South London. Was this written as part of his therapy? Despite being a pretty meat and potatoes account, it was engrossing enough, however you can’t help get the impression he was quite an arsehole of a husband and parent due to the stress of his role. 3 stars.