Christie’s short stories have always been hit-or-miss for me, and this collection was no exception. A few entries were middling and forgettab3.5 stars
Christie’s short stories have always been hit-or-miss for me, and this collection was no exception. A few entries were middling and forgettable, a couple were more satisfying and showed her usual cleverness, and several felt so brief that they barely had room to breathe. The mix of Poirot, Miss Marple, and Parker Pyne is fun, and there are flashes of that classic Christie ingenuity, but the unevenness kept this from being a standout among her story collections. Still, for fans of her lighter, bite-sized mysteries, it’s an enjoyable enough assortment....more
I enjoyed this installment well enough, but one specific element bothered me right from the beginning — and once it became clear that it was 3.5 stars
I enjoyed this installment well enough, but one specific element bothered me right from the beginning — and once it became clear that it was an integral part of the story, it dampened my overall experience. That being said, I’m still invested in this series and continue to really enjoy both Duncan and Gemma as their partnership develops. The mystery around the murder of an abrasive and widely disliked police commander is solidly constructed, with Crombie doing what she does best: digging into hidden loyalties, buried tensions, and the ripple effects of a small community’s secrets. Not my favorite of the series so far, but still a worthwhile read....more
For Rilke, a jaded auctioneer, one estate clearance turns sinister when he uncovers a hidden stash of grotesque photographs in the attic library. WhatFor Rilke, a jaded auctioneer, one estate clearance turns sinister when he uncovers a hidden stash of grotesque photographs in the attic library. What begins as curiosity quickly becomes compulsion, drawing him into Glasgow’s underworld where every revelation comes at a perilous cost.
"The world is an old and wicked place, Rilke, the dreadful has already happened."
From the start, The Cutting Room intrigued me. The atmosphere was tense, tightly written, and full of potential. The audiobook performance by Alan Cumming was stellar — probably the main reason I stayed hooked even when the story drifted toward monotony. I’m not sure this would’ve kept my attention had I been reading a print version.
The middle third, however, nearly lost the thread — leaning more into its gothic identity than the noir edge I sensed at the beginning. It lingered in the seedy underbelly of Glasgow while briefly losing sight of Rilke’s amateur investigation.
Was that what photographs were? Shadows, X-rays of the past, ghosts that could do you no harm?
The intention of this one must've languished on the ... you know where ... before being remembered and retrieved off the floor near the end. It might be too much to say Welsh sticks the landing, but she comes close — more of a petering out than a firm conclusion. But, my word, can she craft a sentence. ...more
At twenty-nine, Lily Bart drifts through New York high society with beauty and charm but no fortune of her own. She knows her only real curr3.5 stars.
At twenty-nine, Lily Bart drifts through New York high society with beauty and charm but no fortune of her own. She knows her only real currency is appearance and status, and while she wants the security of wealth, she also longs for something more. In Wharton’s hands, Lily’s rise and fall becomes a sharp portrait of a society that prizes money and marriage over sincerity — and shows how indecision and ambition can be just as ruinous as desire.
Wharton’s talent is obvious here: the prose is sharp, the critique razor-edged. But this is also where I tripped myself up — I didn’t fully register what kind of book I was picking up. And honestly, that's totally on me. The novel keeps you at arm’s length, more focused on social commentary and irony than on Lily’s inner life.
That distance never quite worked for me. I was told how Lily felt, but the lens was always slanted, more smirk than sympathy. Satire rarely clicks with me, and I found myself craving the kind of immersive, emotional storytelling I tend to respond to more.
Because of that, Lily’s downfall felt more like a lesson than a heartbreak. Her limited agency, the satire, and the static feel of her character all made the ending feel inevitable rather than devastating. And by the time it came, I was honestly more than ready for it. Wharton delivers tragedy as social critique, which is brilliant on one level — but a little too cold if what you want is raw character interiority....more
'Some take the librarian's "Shhhh!" to mean that the library is a place for peace. It was never thus. On every shelf ideas make war. The sile3.5 stars
'Some take the librarian's "Shhhh!" to mean that the library is a place for peace. It was never thus. On every shelf ideas make war. The silence is so that we may hear their screams." —Long Overdue, by Gertrude Steel
This trilogy started with such brilliance. The Book That Wouldn’t Burn was one of those rare reading experiences: inventive, emotionally gripping, and full of awe. The second installment, The Book That Broke the World, dipped a bit. While it still held much of that spark and imagination, the emotional intensity of the first was already slipping. And with this final volume, The Book That Held Her Heart, that drop continued.
I still loved the setting. Lawrence's library is one of the most fascinating creations I've read in fantasy, and I remained invested in his characters. But the series I thought I was promised in book one never fully returned. The strong emotional connection kept loosening with each sequel, until by the end of this last book I found myself frustrated.
Evar and Livira, who had such rich development in that first book, seemed almost frozen in place here. Yes, there's growth to be found in secondary and tertiary characters, but the beating heart of the story — these two — barely shifted at all.
The labyrinthine setting and structure — clever, intricate, endlessly layered — began to feel like its own trap. And it came at a cost: character growth, narrative momentum, and emotional payoff. By the end, I couldn’t help but wonder if all of this might have landed more powerfully if distilled into a single, longer book rather than stretched across three.
This trilogy was ambitious and imaginative to its core, and there's no denying Lawrence's ability to craft impactful and meaningful sentences. That opening quote is a perfect example of his strengths. His style is forceful, memorable, packed with meaning. But the balance between style and story faltered here, leaving me admiring the brilliance on the page and a bit sad about what might have been....more
I wish I loved this one more. I really enjoyed The Grey Wolf (4.5 stars), but The Black Wolf pushed the overarching series plot to a scale t3.5 stars
I wish I loved this one more. I really enjoyed The Grey Wolf (4.5 stars), but The Black Wolf pushed the overarching series plot to a scale that felt stretched past its limits for me. The stakes are bigger than ever, the conspiracy wider, and the tone leans into an almost operatic level of danger that made the absurdity more noticeable than the suspense. I miss the earlier Gamache novels — the smaller, province-level investigations, the emphasis on art, craft, and community, and the human-scale mysteries that felt rooted in character rather than global threat. Penny still writes moments of beauty and connection, and I continue to love these characters, but this installment left me longing for a return to a quieter, more intimate story....more
Paige Mahoney, with half a year of memory lost, finds herself in the free world for the first time in over a decade. She must help unravel a sinister Paige Mahoney, with half a year of memory lost, finds herself in the free world for the first time in over a decade. She must help unravel a sinister Scion plan in Venice before returning to London.
Look. I feel compelled to say that I do not, at this point, understand the current Goodreads rating of 4.59, though I'm pleased this series is working so well for other readers. This has been a kiddie rollercoaster of a series for me (mostly downhill after the first), and it feels like this latest installment is a culmination of every single flaw that bothered me in the previous four books. While I remained intrigued enough about where Shannon was taking the story, and it never quite ventured into "hate-reading" to the end, I definitely felt my interest and emotional investment drifting away from me.
From being too aware of the author (which takes away the feel of these characters as real people) to the compressed timeline to Paige constantly being injured, never displaying the fortitude to lead, the Indiana Jones globetrotting, the utter lack of character growth, Arcturus still being called Warden, and the fact that he's about as interesting as wet cardboard at this point — I can't say this series is fulfilling its intention or that the way it's playing out is working for me.
As it stands, I'm not sure I'll continue with the next installments....more
Predictable, lacked character development and nuance. Trauma as spectacle, doled out with the precision of someone sticking pins in a doll. (And I’m sPredictable, lacked character development and nuance. Trauma as spectacle, doled out with the precision of someone sticking pins in a doll. (And I’m stopping here with this series.)...more
While my interest in continuing this series remains, this was the least enjoyable of the installments so far. Paige Mahoney, now Underqueen, is struggWhile my interest in continuing this series remains, this was the least enjoyable of the installments so far. Paige Mahoney, now Underqueen, is struggling in her current situation, ruling over the clairvoyants of London. And I'm struggling with a few things myself. For one, I don't love how much has happened against how little time has passed from the beginning of the first book — or just how little time has passed regardless of the rest. Also, I don't love how little growth the characters seem to exhibit — mistakes are made, but the lessons learned seem slow to stick and apply. But, above all, I felt the author more in this book than I have in the other two — I felt the author through Paige and her decisions in trying to track down information about Senshield, trying to work out her feelings and future with Arcturus (who, for some reason, she still seems set on calling Warden). Once I detect the author, the characters start to feel less like real people and more like chess pieces. But the ending brought some freshness and possibility back to it, so I'm hopeful that the next in the series will bring it back to center.
Also, it’s important to note that I started with the original text and switched early on to the newly published “Author’s Preferred Text” which is significantly revised, down to word level changes. If you’re looking to start this series, I recommend the revised editions, as the changes accumulate over the course of the rest of the series and may or may not mean important distinctions as the series continues from there....more
In the summer of 1975, Vincent Taylor's two siblings, older brother Danny and younger sister Poppy, were brutally murdered, and despite the lack of evIn the summer of 1975, Vincent Taylor's two siblings, older brother Danny and younger sister Poppy, were brutally murdered, and despite the lack of evidence suggesting so, the entire town remains convinced Vincent was the guilty party.
In the present day, ghostwriter Olivia Dumont (née Taylor) has spent her entire adult life hiding from family secrets and her own identity. When horror author Vincent Taylor, Olivia's estranged father, pegs her to help him with his memoir, Olivia must figure out how to confront her own past, as well as her father's — as they work their way through reconstructing his worst days.
And these may be his final days. Her father is suffering from Lewy body dementia, unable to write his own memoir. Olivia, who had never heard of this debilitating brain disorder before now, very quickly transforms into a sort of Luke Skywalker scoffing at Han — "You don't believe in the Force, do you?" — when Luke literally just found out about it himself. It was almost amusing, though I don't think it was meant to be a funny bit of characterization for Olivia.
Clark has written a propulsive thriller packed with all the right ingredients for a compelling story. From the beginning, though, I struggled with this one because of the use of present tense throughout — not only is it in the present-day timeline but it's in the 1975 timeline. And, to top off my frustrations with the style, by Clark simply interspersing timely flashbacks, the tension in the story felt manipulated rather than organic to the work Olivia was putting into finding out what really happened the night her aunt and uncle were killed. You could almost predict the 1975 peek that was coming next.
Style and verb tense choice aside, there were several points where, despite the novel's easy readability, I was well aware of the author's role here — namely with teasing out points a little too long. But I think my main issue was the lack of any viable red herring, alongside the overwrought lack-of-communication trope, upon which the story heavily relied. Olivia was estranged from her father for a long time, but also her mother, who left when she was very young. I find it really hard to believe that as a 40-something woman and a writer herself, this unsolved murder which revolves solely around her father never piqued her interest. She was, before stepping in as his ghostwriter, completely separated from her identity as his daughter, with no one the wiser. She never questioned the idea that she may have been raised by a murderer? She was fine returning to write this memoir — so I struggle to even fathom that she actually thought it possible. Leaving the reveal (which had some disappointing elements in there too) feeling inevitable in its way.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review....more
The Names set out to explore the impact of a mother's name choice for her son, and how those choices ripple out over the following thirty-five years. The Names set out to explore the impact of a mother's name choice for her son, and how those choices ripple out over the following thirty-five years. In three different timelines to accommodate the three different name choices, Knapp highlights domestic abuse, family, and healing.
While some rare authors’ writing can effortlessly handle the weight and insistence of present tense, The Names fell short of this feat. Instead of effectively conveying the story, the novel is plagued by dull, repetitive, and unengaging passages.
Also, and maybe most importantly to me, it failed to deliver on the promises made by its marketing, offering very little by way of examining the impact of different first names. Instead, the narrative centers around an abuser whose presence permeates every page, whether through literal references or the lingering effects he has left behind. If I had known this beforehand, I probably wouldn't have picked up this book. I struggled to find anything fresh in this novel of threes, where in some parts the answers to the novel's overarching "what-ifs" seemed obvious and in others the directions and choices made felt unearned.
Putting aside the marketing issues and the present tense, while it didn't live up to my expectations (however misdirected), this did have an often touching display of a family, splayed out in three different directions — each with interesting possibilities.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review....more
Being a huge Jane Austen fan, and, at times, having the inclination to read the books she mentions — specifically those in Northanger Abbey —3.5 stars
Being a huge Jane Austen fan, and, at times, having the inclination to read the books she mentions — specifically those in Northanger Abbey — I thought this would be a wonderful dive into the women authors who influenced and shaped Austen's own work. And it does do that. But honestly, and this is mostly on me, I wanted more biography and less book collecting. I understand and often love when the author of a nonfiction book like this includes a good deal of their intertwining personal journey, but somehow this one seemed to drag too often for too long a time. I could barely get settled into each author's life and work without Romney's interruptions. The balance was a little too tilting towards this book's author rather than the titular authors themselves.
That being said — I not only love that this book exists, and sheds a good deal of light on Austen as a reader and inspired author, but also allows present day readers and Janeites to get the opportunity to construct a Jane Austen's Bookshelf TBR.
Also, if you're at all interested in book collecting as a hobby (or future side hustle), this might be the very book to inspire you to begin.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review....more
The Garden was weird and interesting until it wasn't.
In an unnamed near future, Evelyn and Lily, two elderly sisters, live in a walled garden and sleeThe Garden was weird and interesting until it wasn't.
In an unnamed near future, Evelyn and Lily, two elderly sisters, live in a walled garden and sleep in the kitchen — just about the only part of the main house that isn't closed off. Isolated from the outside world, their lives head off in a new trajectory, forcing truths and untruths to the surface for examination and contemplation, when a boy is found trespassing on their property.
What started out with a delightfully slip-sliding familiarity (at first it felt part We Have Always Lived in the Castle and part Grey Gardens), slowly descended into only actually playing around with weirdness — teasing with flashbacks that proved unnecessary, never fully serving or bolstering the main story's progress. Either this endeavor should've been shorter or more (not longer, per se), because this felt either overcooked or under-seasoned.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review....more
A Passage to India is a classic and considered by many to be Forster's greatest work, published in 1924, following Forster's visit to India in 1912–13A Passage to India is a classic and considered by many to be Forster's greatest work, published in 1924, following Forster's visit to India in 1912–13 and his duration as private secretary to Tukojirao III, the Maharajah of Dewas Senior in 1921–22.
Set in the 1920s during the British occupation of India, A Passage to India revolves around four central characters — Dr. Aziz, Mr. Cyril Fielding, Mrs. Moore, and Miss Adela Quested. During a visit to the fictional Marabar Caves, — which have been established as confusing, strange, and labyrinthine, Adela panics and flees, believing that Dr. Aziz has assaulted her. However, whether it was a genuine attack or simply a reaction to the cave's atmosphere remains unclear. Aziz's trial brings to the forefront the racial tensions and prejudices between the Indians and British during the colonial era. The story offers a fascinating look at the complex relationships between colonizer and colonized, highlighting the challenges of cultural understanding and communication in a divided world.
Forster does his usual magnificent job of setting up his characters, dissecting them with social and cultural issues and stereotypes, and laying the groundwork for his viewpoints while still leaving room for further analysis and discussion. An interesting point with this one is that when it was first published, the main contention was the appropriateness of the friendship between two of the main male characters, but later critiques have centered around the sexualization and the use of the stereotypes Forster molded into the novel.
While I found this novel fairly interesting in terms of a contemporary account of an anti-colonialist viewpoint from an established author, Forster seemed so intent on making his points for the audience of the time accessible, clear, and cutting, he didn't bring up his usual quiet subtly that I appreciate from him with Howards End and A Room with a View. And certainly those novels also sport his viewpoints on class and society, but they do so in a more nuanced way. Here, Forster is a little more heavy-handed and long-winded. I had trouble staying engaged with the story and the characters, and I believe that's simply because Forster's focus wasn't on that aspect for this novel. But it is hard to lay down exactly where my present day lens is coming into play and where I would've landed were I a reader of the time.
Audiobook, as narrated by Vikas Adam: I cannot impress upon you how outstanding a job Adam did with this narration. The performance alone was spectacular, but the range of voices was beyond amazing. I honestly checked no less than three times that this wasn't a full-cast performance. Seriously, he was that phenomenal.
Merged review:
A Passage to India is a classic and considered by many to be Forster's greatest work, published in 1924, following Forster's visit to India in 1912–13 and his duration as private secretary to Tukojirao III, the Maharajah of Dewas Senior in 1921–22.
Set in the 1920s during the British occupation of India, A Passage to India revolves around four central characters — Dr. Aziz, Mr. Cyril Fielding, Mrs. Moore, and Miss Adela Quested. During a visit to the fictional Marabar Caves, — which have been established as confusing, strange, and labyrinthine, Adela panics and flees, believing that Dr. Aziz has assaulted her. However, whether it was a genuine attack or simply a reaction to the cave's atmosphere remains unclear. Aziz's trial brings to the forefront the racial tensions and prejudices between the Indians and British during the colonial era. The story offers a fascinating look at the complex relationships between colonizer and colonized, highlighting the challenges of cultural understanding and communication in a divided world.
Forster does his usual magnificent job of setting up his characters, dissecting them with social and cultural issues and stereotypes, and laying the groundwork for his viewpoints while still leaving room for further analysis and discussion. An interesting point with this one is that when it was first published, the main contention was the appropriateness of the friendship between two of the main male characters, but later critiques have centered around the sexualization and the use of the stereotypes Forster molded into the novel.
While I found this novel fairly interesting in terms of a contemporary account of an anti-colonialist viewpoint from an established author, Forster seemed so intent on making his points for the audience of the time accessible, clear, and cutting, he didn't bring up his usual quiet subtly that I appreciate from him with Howards End and A Room with a View. And certainly those novels also sport his viewpoints on class and society, but they do so in a more nuanced way. Here, Forster is a little more heavy-handed and long-winded. I had trouble staying engaged with the story and the characters, and I believe that's simply because Forster's focus wasn't on that aspect for this novel. But it is hard to lay down exactly where my present day lens is coming into play and where I would've landed were I a reader of the time.
Audiobook, as narrated by Vikas Adam: I cannot impress upon you how outstanding a job Adam did with this narration. The performance alone was spectacular, but the range of voices was beyond amazing. I honestly checked no less than three times that this wasn't a full-cast performance. Seriously, he was that phenomenal....more
Almost everything I love from an Edward Rutherfurd novel is here in Paris. From the expansive families rich with varied characters to the exciting andAlmost everything I love from an Edward Rutherfurd novel is here in Paris. From the expansive families rich with varied characters to the exciting and sometimes devastating history of the city or area, Paris has all this and more.
However, unlike the other giant tomes of historical fiction he's delivered, Rutherfurd gives us Paris through a disjointed timeline, waffling between the late 19th century and earlier eras. Instead of his steady climb through history, layering foundational periods on top of each other, in Paris he centers the story around the Eiffel Tower, which I understand in one sense, given that it is the most iconic feature of modern Paris, and briefly visits earlier times (seemingly willy-nilly) almost as flashbacks.
With his stories all helicoptering around a small number of families, this made following the story difficult. Normally, I love the branching out of the family trees as he works his way forwards in time, but with there being five solid families at the core...you know, with mainly the same five last names...it was hard to stay anchored in whatever time he felt we should be in at that moment.
Paris as a city also suffered without the careful construction of its deep history. Rutherfurd splashes a mention or two about the Romans, but I don't even recall him spending any length of time on the land before it was Paris.
I will admit that I stuck with this one because I tried to just go with his flow of ideas, but I don't know if it was worth it in the end. I still loved his characters, the families, but the generation in and around the construction of the Eiffel Tower was really the only one that has stuck with me, the only one I could catch hold of. And while they were just as interesting as I'd expect, on their own they don't make up a whole Rutherfurd novel....more
Veronica, a specialty food broker, has her high school suspicions confirmed that she’s adopted when her younger sister turns up at Christmas bearing DVeronica, a specialty food broker, has her high school suspicions confirmed that she’s adopted when her younger sister turns up at Christmas bearing DNA kits as presents for the family. When her parents are unexpectedly upset, the truth is revealed, and Veronica shares what she has long guessed. Later, she is coaxed into going forward with the kit to discover her roots, maybe get a match with a relative, and ignore the fact that her parents never told her — apparently because of an NDA that was signed at her birth.
When the kit results come back, Veronica is then coaxed on an all-expenses-paid trip to four of the regions and countries that showed up in her DNA results: Ireland, France, Italy, and Denmark. She visits Ireland first, staying in a lovely old castle in the off-season, and making friends with the caretaker and his family. While there, she is presented with a couple of visions that seem to be related to the former inhabitants of the castle. A similar thing happens when she visits France, Italy, and Denmark. She also takes the time and chance to visit the local food vendors to potentially add to her wealth of food knowledge.
While this wasn't a bad book — it absolutely wasn't my cup of tea. This was very much akin to a Hallmark-esque movie with the B-team. The dialogue strained to be more than the straightforward, direct dialogue, the characters were pat and static, and the plot was dull and predictable.
I enjoyed, and had more tolerance for, the visit to Ireland than any other spot. Runyan spent more time on Veronica and Niall (the castle's caretaker) here and their budding relationship than at any other place. In fact, there was a steady decline in the time spent on the page for each location as she went.
If you are a person who loves to read about food being sourced, tasted, prepared, and eaten, then you may get more out of this than I did. It was a dominant part of the book, and probably the only consistent component of Veronica's character. I didn't love it, but I did love the uniqueness of her job and the possibilities it could open up for her.
Other things I took issue with include the complete and utter disappearance of her parents from the plot, mostly her mother, who honestly had more to answer for than Veronica was demanding of her. And then there was the sheer goodness of the characters. They were pillars of kindness and understanding — even when an apology was due, it was quick to come and sincerely meant and genuinely taken. They were all scoops of vanilla ice cream. Even the romance side of the story was unbelievably tame — a couple of kisses and I think they held hands?
This will probably work for people who look for this level of easy, light reading where they can vicariously visit other places with and through Veronica. In that, I think it succeeds. I am unfortunately not one of those people.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review....more
Jasmine Dent, suffering from a horrible disease, dies in her sleep. Superintendent Duncan Kincaid investigates her death, uncovering a bizarr3.5 stars
Jasmine Dent, suffering from a horrible disease, dies in her sleep. Superintendent Duncan Kincaid investigates her death, uncovering a bizarre puzzle of charity, crime, and blinding passions.
An interesting follow-up to the introduction of these two crime-solving characters, but I'm not sure it quite succeeded in all it tackled, though it was still quite enjoyable....more
Pretty fresh off his brilliant short story collection, I was ready for a knockout novel. Instead, this one was just above par, and I might have preferPretty fresh off his brilliant short story collection, I was ready for a knockout novel. Instead, this one was just above par, and I might have preferred it as a short story, itself. As with his work in shorter form, Rash's dialogue is authentic and engaging — so why he avoids it for much of this book is beyond me. What he's constructed here is a plot-driven book plodding along thinking it's character driven.
The novel opens with Jacob Lampton fighting in the Korean War, having been conscripted earlier that year. It's 1951 in Blowing Rock, North Carolina (a real place — was just there a few weeks ago), and Blackburn Gant, a cemetery caretaker and I suppose the title character, has been looking after Jacob's new wife, Naomi. She's sixteen and pregnant — and has become an outcast after their elopement scandalized the town, including her in-laws disinheriting Jacob. As Jacob endures hardship and injury because of the war, Naomi and Blackburn become very close, both afraid that Jacob won't return home. Then a startling development changes the direction of the lives for everyone involved.
Rash writes incredibly real characters, and that's no different in The Caretaker, but my issue with this masquerading as a character-driven novel, when it is in fact plot-driven, really stems from how static the three main characters are. Jacob, Naomi, and Blackburn might be in different circumstances or have endured distress, but all three are the same good but strong people they were at the beginning; the plot has no impact on them. None of them experience growth, certainly not of any significance, and the entirety of the ending depends on a revelation of the plot. This was fine, though I was bored through large swaths of story, and I might not check out his previous work as I had planned....more
Christie tries to grab you with the opening lines ("You do see, don't you, that she's got to be killed?"), which Poirot overhears, but her grip loosenChristie tries to grab you with the opening lines ("You do see, don't you, that she's got to be killed?"), which Poirot overhears, but her grip loosens over the course of the next 40% until Poirot actually enters the pages of the book.
During a holiday in Jerusalem, Hercule Poirot overhears Raymond Boynton confiding in his sister that he believes murder to be the only way through their current situation. Their stepmother, Mrs. Boynton, is a malevolent and oppressive figure who exercises complete control over her family. When she dies during a trip to Petra, Poirot sets himself the ambitious task of solving the case within a twenty-four-hour timeframe, despite the immediate lack of concrete evidence suggesting foul play.
Yes, Appointment with Death is one of those where Poirot isn't even a part of the story until nearly halfway through, something I really dislike. I find that particularly with this approach, Christie creates rather stale characters who have to titter about revealing backstory and creating drama before anyone even dies. I get that maybe she was trying to stay fresh with her famous detective, but these never quite rise above the ordinary for me. Missing is the slower, methodical piecing together of the facts by Poirot...he's really busy and his methods oversimplified when he's jammed into the second half....more
Time-play sucker that I am, when I saw a friend was reading this one, I just had to go and give it a whirl. And, it was an okay journey.
The premise reTime-play sucker that I am, when I saw a friend was reading this one, I just had to go and give it a whirl. And, it was an okay journey.
The premise revolves around a group of friends who haven't seen our main character in a while. When Bea decides to make a trip to see them, the group friendship remains awkward, until a near-fatal car accident opens up the space for a little venting.
But a mysterious man shows up at the door and tells them that they're actually stuck between worlds — in the neverworld — until they make a decision about who gets to live and who has to pass on, and the five friends slowly accept things may not be as they believed. They may not have survived that car accident after all.
The set-up was compelling enough, and the plot point at its center — this neverworld space — is an interesting concept. But ultimately this one just went the way you knew it'd go from the outset. The characters lacked a bit of dimension, the execution was a little patchy, but really this was an enjoyable ride...just getting to the destination was predictable....more