Code Grey by Clea Simon

Reviewed by Jeanne

It’s spring break, though it’s a bit hard to believe with the chill in the air.  With Dulcie’s boyfriend Chris away visiting his mother, it seems a perfect time for Dulcie to put in some serious work on her dissertation.  Some have begun to wonder if she’s become so attached to her subject that she actually doesn’t want to finish it, which Dulcie finds to be nonsense.  She’s ready to make progress just to prove them all wrong.  Then parts of the library are closed due to water issues, and former student Jeremy Mumbleigh is found injured, clutching a rare library book under his coat.  Even though Jeremy is homeless and battling mental health issues, Dulcie can’t believe that he would steal from the library he loves.  So where did he get the book?  And more importantly, were his injuries due to an accident—or was he attacked?  Jeremy is in no condition to answer, so Dulcie recruits Mr. Griddlehaus, her librarian friend, to help find the answers before someone else is hurt.

The Dulcie Schwartz mysteries are perfect for those who love a good academic mystery.  Simon’s vivid descriptions almost make the college and its environs into characters themselves.  Dulcie’s long term (long, long, long term!) dissertation deals with the unknown author of eighteenth century Gothic romances, so the themes of literature and history loom large.  Code Grey in particular is a love song to those who treasure the physical book.  Part of the story deals with the history of publishing, the value of manuscript, and novels that are much more than they seem.  There’s a reverence that will warm the heart of any bibliophile, those who appreciate the physicality of a book: feeling the story flow almost through one’s fingers as the pages turn, appreciating the appearance of the fonts, the margins, the texture of the paper.  It was easy for me to feel a kinship to Dulcie, Jeremy, and the others who appreciate books as valuable physical objects—like gold or jewels-- in their own right. Just ask anyone standing in line at Trinity College, hoping for a glimpse of The Book of Kells.

Of course, no Dulcie tale would be complete without the cats. Esme is ever the willful young diva; she's perfected the feline version of a flounce.  The departed Mr. Grey still manages to dispense love and wisdom (sometimes couched in  enigmatic expressions) to his favorite human kitten.   Dulcie’s delightfully ditsy mother calls with difficult to interpret warnings from the psychic world. (“Ditsy” is not exactly the right word, but I do love alliteration in moderation.) Simon indulges in some wordplay as well, but let me hasten to add on a much more sophisticated level. For example, the passages from the Unknown Author’s work are affectionate satires of the classic gothic genre while reflecting Dulcie’s psyche. However, the supernatural elements are more for atmosphere than intervention:  the mysteries are solved through human means.  

For fans of the series, we learn much more about Mr. Griddlehaus’ background. The librarian has played an increasingly large role the books and this time out he actively helps Dulcie investigate.  He finally comes into his own as a fully fleshed out character, one it’s a pleasure to get to know better. 

If you’re looking for blood ‘n’ gore or car chases, look elsewhere.  But if you want to feel as if you’re walking the halls of the Milhorn Library or grab a bean burger at Lala’s while trying to sift through clues, then prepare yourself for a real treat. You may want to have a hot beverage at hand against the chilly Cambridge winds and don’t be surprised if you fancy you hear a wolf howl or see some fog drifting in.

Full disclosure:  I was sent an advance copy of the book for review, but this did not influence my opinion any more than does my love of literary felines.

BeeGee appears smitten by the cover's kitten.

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

Reviewed by Ambrea

Simply put, The Grapes of Wrath tells the story of the Joad family and their desperate flight to California in the midst of the Dust Bowl.  After being forced off their land by the owner, who sold his land to the bank, who in turn sold it to a corporation—and so on and so forth—the Joads are making their way to the west coast in the hopes of a better life.

Although the novel is primarily concerned with the Joad family and their flight across the country, several chapters—I have heard them called “bridge chapters”—describe the overall experience of the families forced to flee their homes after the Great Depression began.  These “bridge chapters” not only connect the Joad family to the larger, collective experiences of these migrant people, they also introduce the reader to a more intimate portrait of suffering, terror, and desperation these people felt and experienced.

When I began reading The Grapes of Wrath, it captured my attention for one simple reason:  it kept me on the edge of my seat.  I was constantly wondering if the family would make it to California, if they would endure—if they would ever survive the journey.  On some level, this book made me wonder if happily-ever-after even exists.  It depicts some of the worst human behavior, some of the worst human suffering as people try to survive and make a better life for themselves.

Honestly, Steinbeck’s novel broke my heart—and then it came back to stomp it in the dirt.  As Steinbeck once wrote in a letter to his publisher, “I am not writing a satisfying story.  I’ve done my damndest to rip a reader’s nerves to rags, I don’t want him satisfied.  And still one more thing—I’ve tried to write this book the way lives are lived not the way books are written.”

And Steinbeck succeeds brilliantly.

The story of the Joad family occurs during a particularly chaotic time in American history.  It’s a decade when stock markets plunged and banks went under; when dust choked nearly half the country; when war—or an eviction notice—constantly loomed on the horizon, like the dust storms of Oklahoma and Arkansas; when economic hardship became the norm and exploitation of the poor, weak, and desperate happened regularly.

In The Grapes of Wrath, people suffer.  They’re treated as less than human—and may even become less than human through the fear and loathing of others, through their own tired desperation—and they die.  In short, Steinbeck succeeded in writing a book that will “rip a reader’s nerves to rags,” but he also succeeded in creating a hallmark piece of American literature that’s sure to rattle readers and make us think.

Nevermore: Coal Tattoo, Finding Jake, Children Act, and More!

Report by Meygan

Nevermore opened with the discussion of The Coal Tattoo by Silas House. This book is about two sisters, Easter and Anneth, who live on old Kentucky land. Easter is Pentecostal and is very religious. Anneth, on the other hand, likes to live in the fast lane of life and loves to drink. But when Anneth becomes pregnant, that tends to put a damper in her wild plans. This is a tale of a sisterly bond and whether or not the strongest of bonds can be broken. The Nevermore member says that the book is beautifully written and she didn’t expect the book to end the way it did. 

Finding Jake by Bryan Reardon was discussed next. Simon Connolly is a stay-at-home father who takes care of his two children, Jake and Laney. Simon appears to be a nervous person anyways, but he is especially nervous having two children in today’s world. He is no fool to what kind of messes some kids tend to get themselves into, but what he doesn’t expect to happen is a school shooting at Jake’s school. When more and more parents are reunited with their children, Simon realizes that he still doesn’t see Jake. He discovers that Jake is the only missing child from the shooting. Finding Jake not only focuses on the school shooting and Jake, but also focuses on Simon’s psychological outlook on his life and how well he knows or may not know his son. This book was highly recommended!

Next was Fire Shut Up in My Bones by Charles Blow, a poet and a columnist for the New York Times. This is Blow’s true story of how he grew up in Louisiana, and he does a walkthrough of his life up until his present moments. The Nevermore member enjoyed this book and does recommend it, but she said that it is a downer. Blow was sexually abused by two relatives and at the age of seven, he wanted to commit suicide. Even though the subject matter can be excruciating to read, the reader did enjoy this book very much. 

Ian McEwan’s The Children Act has been almost impossible to keep on our shelves here at the Bristol Public Library! Fiona Maye is a judge who lives in London. To the people of her town, she is a tough, well-respected woman. But Fiona can’t help but to feel anything but disrespected whenever her husband asks her for an open marriage. He wants to be with another woman before he becomes older. To no surprise, Fiona declines his offer and he moves out. Although Fiona is perplexed and hurt, she allows her job instead of her husband’s departure to occupy her mind, especially when a seventeen-year-old boy needs a blood transfusion but he and his family refuse because it goes against their religious beliefs. The Nevermore member appeared to enjoy this book and read one of his favorite paragraphs to us. Another member commented that the paragraph was beautifully written.  

Tawni O’Dell’s One of Us was mentioned next. TV forensic psychologist Dr. Sheridan Doyle returns to his hometown only to find a dead body waiting for him. He teams up with Rafe, a former detective, to find out more about the body found at the Lost Creek gallows. To make matters more interesting, the body found is connected to a wealthy family responsible for the execution of some miners at Lost Creek gallows. The Nevermore member said One of Us is very entertaining and the author is good at bringing everybody’s stories together.

Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

Reviewed by Ambrea

 Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz opens at the close of Sherlock Holmes’ apparent last case, “The Final Problem,” in which Holmes confronts Professor James Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls. Horowitz basically picks up where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle left off and, in some small measure, focuses on what happens to the world’s favorite detective and his arch nemesis. Horowitz, however, takes a surprising turn and introduces a new character: Frederick Chase, an investigator with the Pinkerton Detective Agency of New York.

 And Frederick Chase isn’t alone. Horowitz also introduces a new villain, a man who rivals James Moriarty in his duplicity and his invisibility, a man who may very well be seeking to extend his criminal empire over the sea to fill the shoes of Europe’s “Napoleon of Crime.”

I was intrigued by the premise, especially since Horowitz decided to recycle characters from Conan Doyle’s mysteries, like Inspector Athelney Jones and Inspector Lestrade. Jones appears to take the place of our beloved Sherlock. As an ardent student of Holmes’ methods, Jones takes center stage, pinpointing unexpected clues, making great leaps of logic with inexplicable ease, and cornering criminals. Jones makes an intriguing character and, I will say, a fine detective.

 Likewise, Frederick Chase makes a fine narrator. He, like Dr. John Watson, documents events surrounding the case, providing a candid account and detailed insight for the reader. I find I like Detective Chase for his candor and his ability to pen a riveting story; however, I found I was a little alarmed by his allusions to the future—and for good reason.

The final two chapters of Moriarty see the entire plot unraveling, reaching a climax that I certainly didn’t expect. I mean, the conclusion of Horowitz’s novel was like a punch in the stomach. Although the narrator alludes to future events, to the potential for tragedy, I didn’t expect events to unfold as they did. In concluding the novel as he did, Horowitz created a truly brilliant—and truly terrifying—villain.

 My one complaint about Moriarty is the pace. Although Chase and Inspector Jones consistently find themselves wedged in a spot of trouble, stumbling into dangerous situations and bizarre adventures that should surely keep the reader intrigued, I would occasionally lose interest in the development of the story. With so many unanswered questions, so many twists that consistently seemed to develop into nothing, I was not the most dedicated reader and I frequently took breaks between chapters. While the final two chapters proved to be the most exciting, the others were much less so.

Note: With the release of the new Sherlock Homes movie starring Ian McKellan as an elderly version of the detective, we thought this was an appropriate time to post a this review.  The movie is based on the book A Slight Trick of the Mind by Mitch Cullin.  There is a review of that book here.

Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries by Molly MacRae

Reviewed by Jeanne

Last Wool and Testament by Molly MacRae

Kath Rutledge didn’t expect to be caught speeding by an East Tennessee cop, but then she didn’t expect her beloved grandmother to die suddenly, either.  To make matters worse, the cop refers to her grandmother as “Crazy Ivy” and insinuates that she might have been in trouble with the law.  None of this fits in with the Ivy that Kath knew and loved—but then, that Ivy wouldn’t have deeded away her house without telling Kath either.  All that’s left is Ivy’s shop, The Weaver’s Cat, a host of Ivy’s fellow weavers and fabric artists, and a mystery that Kath is determined to solve to clear her grandmother’s name.

Oh, and deal with a despondent ghost who loves television.

I picked this series up because it had a local setting, and there was a cat on the cover.  I confess to being a bit disappointed in some of the local color or, rather, the lack thereof.  While I recognized some local references (the town is called Blue Plum, for example, and there's a nearby festival by that name), I just didn’t get a good sense of being in this area.   I didn’t want heavy handed dialect or ‘possum jokes or references to Jed Clampett, but on the other hand I didn’t want generic small town America either.  For a page or two I forgot if the book was set in Tennessee or Maine or Minnesota, since I’ve been reading mysteries set in all those places—and yes, all small towns with diners as the heart of town where one gets the gossip and a killer brownie/chocolate chip cookie/cupcake.  To be honest, I wondered if this was a mandate by the publisher to make the setting “relatable” or some such nonsense. A few details came in near the end but not enough for me to really feel that I was in this area.  On the up side, this meant no toothless natives or “Dueling Banjos.” That is definitely a plus for me. 

And by the way, there was a cat but it remained missing for most of the book.  This detail is for my cat mystery reading friends and should not reflect badly for anyone who does not read mysteries for the felines. I am reliably informed that not everyone is concerned about the presence or absence of felines, so those folks may just ignore this entire paragraph.

Because first novels have the burden of setting up characters, I decided to read a second book in the series. Plagued by Quilt sees Kath settled in at the Weaver’s Cat, making friends and succeeding as a shopkeeper.  She’s getting ready to put her background as a conservator to good use as she helps out at the Holston Living History Homeplace, a museum where visitors can tour an eighteenth century homestead and view re-enactors lecturing and performing tasks common to the day.  Phillip Bell, the new assistant director, is an enthusiastic interpreter and is leading an archaeological excavation on the site.  When a human elbow turns up, it seems that some secrets may not be too well buried after all.  

I found I enjoyed Plagued by Quilt much more.  Kath was more settled and comfortable, so I as a reader felt more comfortable.  The Holston museum setting gave more opportunity to build setting, as did Kath’s love for the antique tools and fabrics.  Geneva the ghost is back, dramatic as ever, but she does provide some comic relief with her TV references.  A couple of the characters were more developed than in the first book, though Kath remains someone who rushes in where angels (but not ghosts) fear to tread.  The TGIF (Thank Goodness It’s Fiber) group has some interesting possibilities but limited character development, though they are the source of a delightful stake-out scene.  I enjoy the way that MacRae incorporates bits of information about history and fiber work into her books:  the retting of flax, for example. It’s never a lecture or a chore, just interesting information.

The scraping sound you hear is the dragging of a soapbox.  I had two quibbles with the book that I put up with but found annoying—much like the flies that scoot inside in summer.  The biggest was the librarian who didn’t seem to want to do research and secondly, that when she finally did the research she failed to check online sources which should have yielded clues.  I will grant that it would have made solving the mystery take fewer pages, but I hope that librarian will either polish her skills or else find a new profession. And no, she won’t stop me from reading the next book. End of soapbox!

All in all, this is a solid little series with extra appeal for those who love fiber arts, be it knitting, sewing, quilting, or weaving.  The supernatural elements don’t overwhelm the story, nor do they spoil the detecting. I don’t think this is a series that needs to be read in order, as it’s fairly easy to catch up though Geneva might give one a moment’s pause when encountered for the first time. I have a couple of friends who are fiber artists and I will be recommending the series to them.

The author, Molly MacRae, lived in this area for a number of years and worked for a time in Jonesborough so she does know and like the area. While that didn't come through in the first book, it was much more evident in the second.

(And yes, a cat made more of an appearance in this book.  That did not influence my opinion.  At least not much.)