Monday, May 15, 2017

Cat with a Clue by Laurie Cass




Reviewed by Jeanne

Librarian Minnie Hamilton is shelving early one morning when she discovers a woman lying in the aisle.  Her first thought is that someone had been accidentally locked in the library overnight, but that momentary hope is dashed as she realizes that 1) the woman’s skin is cold and 2) there is a large knife sticking out of her back. It turns out that the victim isn’t even a local resident, but a visitor who was in town for a relative’s funeral.  So why did she end up dead in the library?

Meanwhile, the Library Board is interviewing candidates for a new library director. Minnie’s co-workers are all encouraging her to apply but Minnie knows that the director doesn’t get to do what Minnie loves most: drive the bookmobile.  Bringing books to those unable to get to the library is one of the joys of life for Minnie, especially when she’s accompanied by her cat, Eddie, who has his own fan club.

Then someone breaks into the bookmobile’s garage, scattering books everywhere.  Strangely, though, nothing seems to be missing.  Is this just random vandalism—or is there a connection to the murdered woman?

This is the fifth in the charming Bookmobile Cat Mystery series.  I know I can count on Cass for a light, fun mystery with a good dose of library and feline related material which is like catnip to me.  I enjoy the way spunky Minnie drops in the names of authors or book titles in the course of her day, and I am very fond of Eddie who is a bright little cat—and he is portrayed as a real cat, not a sleuth.   As with most cozy mysteries, there’s a good supporting cast of neighbors, co-workers, friends, and relatives to round out the story.  I’m especially fond of Minnie’s Aunt Frances, who runs a summer B & B where she selects visitors based on matchmaking potential. 

This is a fine choice for anyone looking to curl up with a good cozy; and if you like libraries and cats, so much the better!

Friday, May 12, 2017

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan




Reviewed by Kristin

Robin Sloan’s debut novel gives the reader a feel of actually entering an tall, narrow San Francisco bookstore, a bit dusty, an ancient computer sitting on the desk, an older bookseller in a button-down and cardigan appearing from the shadows.  Taller than they are wide, the shelves range upwards to dizzying heights.  Ladders climb upward to the ceiling for staff access to the books.

When Clay Jannon spies the help wanted sign in the window, he is a bit suspicious.  Who puts up actual signs anymore?  Isn’t that what Craigslist is for?  But Clay is desperate for a job after his marketing design job with the Old Jerusalem Bagel Company (formerly NewBagel, founded by ex-Google employees, who as it turned out were better at software than breakfast foods) flopped, along with the rest of the company.

Clay soon is wondering how in the world the bookstore stays afloat, as he is doing well to sell a single book per night.  The eccentric individuals who scurry into the store seem to be “members” rather than customers, borrowing cryptic tomes from the upper reaches of the shelves.  Mr. Penumbra has only three requirements: Clay must always be there to work exactly 10:00 pm to 6:00 am.  He may not read the special volumes.  And he must keep very detailed records of all customer interactions.  Not just what they buy, but also how they are dressed, down to the buttons, and what is their apparent state of mind.

Filled with intriguing characters, this is so much more than a book about a bookstore.  From Mr. Penumbra’s dimly lit rows to the crystal city of the Google complex to a secret society in New York City, Clay ends up on an intricately plotted adventure that he never would have imagined as he happened upon that help wanted sign.  As Clay continued deeper into his quest, I was rooting him on from the sidelines, or should I say from the printed page.  The story drew me along, making me want to read just one more page, one more chapter (…the curse of book lovers who have other less exciting, mundane responsibilities.)

After reading the book, I discovered that it grew from a short story originally published on Sloan’s website, www.robinsloan.com.  (Warning: spoilers in the short story!  If you are intrigued by the book, be sure to go back and read the story afterwards.)  Also, there is a later published prequel that builds the foundations: Ajax Penumbra 1969.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Ambrea's Read Harder Challenge: Bad-Ass Librarians, Beauty and the Mustache, and Moral Disorder



I finally finished the next part of my Read Harder Challenge.  I finished:
  • Read a book about books.
  • Read a book that is set within 100 miles of your location.
  • Read a collection of stories by a woman.



Starting out, I finished reading The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu by Joshua Hammer, which details events beginning in 2012 when more than 350,000 manuscripts—many of which had been painstakingly collected by Abdel Kader Haidara—were endangered by Al Qaeda militants seizing control of Mali.  In his book, Hammer details how Haidara and other manuscript collectors managed to find, preserve, and rescue hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, before smuggling them out of the country under the noses of Al Qaeda.

As the summary attests, it’s indeed a “brazen heist worth of Ocean’s Eleven.”  Personally, I found it fascinating to learn how Haidara became involved in the manuscript preservation business and how he and other librarians managed to steal away more than 350,000 manuscripts from Timbuktu.  I mean, the number is simply mind boggling.

Moreover, I was consistently fascinated by the history and culture of Timbuktu and Mali as a whole.  Hammer offers a rich variety of details, discussing the medical, cultural, historical, scholastic and artistic impact of Timbuktu.  Although his work can grow a little dry, every chapter offers fascinating insight into the history of Timbuktu and, more importantly, provides readers with an eye-opening portrait of the conditions faced by Mali’s residents when Al Qaeda invaded.


Next, I checked out Beauty and the Mustache by Penny Reid.  Set in Tennessee, Beauty and the Mustache is a short, sweet little romance—which kicks off the Winston Brothers series and continues the Knitting in the City series, both by Penny Reid—that brings together Ashley Winston and Drew Runous.  After spending more than 8 years away from home, Ashley is forced to return to Tennessee to help take care of her ailing mother.  Expecting the same rough treatment from her brothers as from years before, she’s surprised to learn they’ve changed.  She’s even more surprised to meet their friend Drew, especially when she realizes he’s exactly her type.

Overall, I really enjoyed reading Beauty and the Mustache.  Like I noted above, it’s a short, sweet little romance and it’s absolutely adorable.  It’s sometimes bittersweet, sometimes tragic, but I immensely enjoyed reading Penny Reid’s novel.  I found I connected to Ashley, our main character and narrator, on a personal level and I admired her sharp, sarcastic sense of humor, her intelligence, and her ability to go toe-to-toe with Drew’s philosophical meanderings.

However, I will note I was bothered by one thing:  I did not like the setting.  I love the Smoky Mountains, don’t get me wrong; however, I simply didn’t like the narrator’s inability to describe her surroundings.  I was incredibly disappointed by the setting descriptions, which were seriously lacking.  I wanted to hear more about the winding roads, the multitude of trees, the softly sloping mountains in the distance, or the way the hills fade against the horizon, deepening to a slate blue before disappearing altogether.

I wanted to hear about places I’ve known or seen, but, sadly, I didn’t get that chance.  It was slightly disappointing.


Last, I read Moral Disorder by Margaret Atwood.  I think I might have fudged the challenge parameters with this one, since it’s really just a single novel; however, as it’s labeled with “Other Stories,” I assumed it would do the trick.  It centers around one woman—Nell—but it’s a compilation of many short stories from different points in her life.

It begins with “Bad News,” toward the tail end of Nell’s life, but it jumps through time with each story and catapults Nell into the past, showing readers glimpses of her childhood and her adolescence and, finally, her transition into adulthood.

Truthfully, I didn’t enjoy reading Moral Disorder that much.  Atwood is a fantastic writer and her prose packs a punch when she wants it, but, personally, I found I couldn’t always connect with the stories in Moral Disorder.  Granted, I found that the stories with which I did connect moved me deeply and I worried for Nell, like I’d worry about a friend; however, it was a rather unremarkable journey for me overall.

Monday, May 8, 2017

The Wild Rose by Jennifer Donnelly





           
Reviewed by Christy H.

Jennifer Donnelly’s Tea Rose series, which began with The Tea Rose in 2002, is a sweeping historical fiction epic in every sense of the word. Crossing continents and spanning years, lost love and found love, it’s probably not for fans of instant gratification.  The last in the series is no exception.

            The Wild Rose begins in 1914 and continues throughout World War I and beyond. While there are several compelling storylines, the heart of the novel is Seamus Finnegan, the youngest of the Finnegan brood, and Willa Alden. (Each book chronicles one of the Finnegan siblings in a mostly stand-alone story. While reading in order may make a reader appreciate character cameos and side plots a little bit more, it’s not necessary. Donnelly does a deft job of explaining – or in my case refreshing – the Finnegan family history.) Willa and Seamus haven’t seen each other for many, many years. Not since Willa lost one of her legs in a mountain climbing accident. Losing the ability to climb almost broke Willa, and she often thinks she would rather be dead than unable to climb and explore. Seamus saved her life, and she couldn’t forgive him for it. Unfortunately, more heartache awaits them both.

            Actually, there is plenty of heartache to go around for all of Donnelly’s characters – and there are quite a few of them too. Along with the Finnegan siblings and their children, there are so many new characters I had some trouble keeping up with them. Fortunately, I found all the side plots interesting even if I sometimes couldn’t remember names. A lot of times with similar books there is always at least one subplot where readers feel disappointed when the narrative shifts back to it because they just don’t care. That didn’t happen here. There is so much going on that it is almost difficult to summarize but I will say this novel includes suffragists, espionage, deadly sandstorms, the underbelly of London, train explosions, a flu epidemic, and even the dreaded Love Triangle. And while the latter is not one of my favorite tropes, I have to say I was never bored. (And to Donnelly’s credit, she does not try to vilify the third wheel in the triangle just to make it easier for readers to root for the other two. Instead, the character is a kind and courageous woman who is easy to like and empathize with.) 

            There were a few contrived plot devices that conveniently helped solve some problems and some of the dialogue felt, at times, unnatural; overall, though, I really enjoyed this novel. The pacing is never rushed but it never seems to drag either. Not an easy feat for a book with over 600 pages. As always, I look forward to Donnelly’s future offerings.

Friday, May 5, 2017

Murder at the Rummage Sale by Elizabeth Cunningham






At a recent workshop, reviewers were advised to avoid plot details and instead give their readers a snappy four or five word summary to convey the mood of the book.  Here goes:

Mad Men meets Miss Marple.”

That’s as close as I can get to try to convey how the 1960 setting permeates the book:  there is much imbibing, cigarette smoking, and marital discord, but there’s also a gentle spinsterish (more –ish, but not many know that) lady who is one of the first to suspect foul play in the death of Charlotte Crawley, pillar of the community and infuriating busybody with kleptomaniac tendencies.

The book is told from several different points of view:  Gerald Bradley, minister of the Church of the Regeneration; his wife, Anne; their seven year old daughter, Katherine; and Lucy Wary, an older member of the congregation.

I wasn’t sure at first if I was going to enjoy this book or not.  I’m actually not quite sure why I picked it up, except vague memories of good reviews.  The cover is rather bare bones, bright red with a sketch of sensible shoes and the author and title. I wasn’t sure what it was meant to convey, but on the other hand I’m glad it didn’t have a generic cozy mystery cover (usually showing a living room, tea or coffee cups, perhaps a quilt or a pet) because then I would have assumed it was, well, a generic cozy.

The beginning wasn’t promising.  The marriage between Gerald and Anne is fracturing.  Anne seems cold and remote to Gerald, silently rebuking him at every turn. To Anne, Gerald is oblivious at best.  Given the time period and Gerald’s position, divorce isn’t contemplated but neither is reconciliation, at least on Anne’s part.  Gerald does care for his parishioners and wants to lead social change in the community—hiring Frank, an Italian ex-con as a handyman, and trying to raise funds for a camp for underprivileged children—but he is more involved in the “big picture” than with individuals.  Also he pays more lip service to religion than actual belief; Anne says frankly that she is an atheist even as she tried to dutifully fulfill her obligations as minister’s wife. 

Neither character appealed to me nor did I relish the idea of spending a lot of time in their company.  Their young daughter is bewildered by it all and I felt sorry for her. Fortunately, Lucy Wray was a delight and the author’s excellent job of conveying the feel of the times was enough to keep me reading.  I’m glad I did.  Cunningham has created complex characters who gradually reveal themselves for better or for worse.  The theme of faith is somewhat muted, given the fact that a minister is a lead character, but there are glimpses of supernatural guidance at times—or rather, what characters may perceive as supernatural guidance.  Lucy and Katherine both love the Narnia books, and I enjoyed the bits of folklore that popped up occasionally. The supporting characters add zest, including Elsa the Teutonic church organist and her Scottish nemesis, Amos;  Elsa’s partner, the fragile Clara; Teresa Lomangino, Frank’s strong and lively wife; Rick Foster, a handsome politician; and even Charlotte Crawley, who becomes more sympathetic in death than she ever appeared in life.

I ended up enjoying this book a great deal so I was pleased to hear there is a sequel in the works.