now then, here we are again, look you see. having read another two novels - not just one and not three - i for some reason feel compelled to share my thoughts, views or if you will reaction to them. it's taken a bit longer than i had anticipated to read them, but that does not particularly matter to you. such are the dynamics of an internet, you could read several years worth of book reviews what i have done all in a day, so as and when i do them is of no consequence.
my instinct tells me that what i have to say of these books, too, shall be of no consequence. but, your call on that if you read on, perhaps in a not entirely unusual set of circumstances i am wrong and this is of some use to someone out there somewhere.
so, as as become standard, a look at the two, followed by some quickfire, no spoiler comments for those keen to avoid spoilers or are simply in some sort of rush.
to commence where i did, and as they are pictured, A Game Of Ghosts is, i believe book 15 or so in the Charlie Parker series by John Connolly. it is superb, except for one obscenity that will have many readers reaching to burn their copy somewhere around 150 pages in. meanwhile The Bad Mother by Amanda Brooke is a novel that i am not sure i was ever the target market for. i dragged my heels reading it somewhat, and should perhaps have stopped before finishing it. but that does not make it bad.
righty-ho, one of them *** POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHEAD *** warnings is quite in place, just in case. also, links to where one may buy or if you like purchase either or both of these novels are given purely for the convenience of worldwide shipping, going on how internationalist my readership is. such links are not any sort of affiliation or endorsement - this blog is ad free, and i make not a single solitary penny from it. but it does make me feel good, or at least momentarily less alone in the world, whenever someone stops by and reads something here.
provenance of my copy? for some reason many of you consider this aspect more important than anything. well, anyway, part of a 2 for £7 deal off of Tesco. with this i purchased Don't Let Go by Michel Bussi, what i have not read yet. but will.
what of the plot? well, Charlie Parker is doing his detective or if you like investigator thing. in this instance, his contact at the FBI or CIA or whichever it is sets him on the trail of a missing Private Investigator. the reasons for wanting him found are unknown, or at least never shared with Parker. as the hunt begins in earnest, it soon becomes quite clear that the person missing has a most peculiar, completely obsessive and suspicious interest in the subjects of ghosts in general, one infamous moment in American history (as depicted in this novel, at least) in particular.
on top of that, the Charlie Parker series goes far, far, far more human drama / soap opera than it ever has done before, so be warned. Charlie's personal life is a mess, his chums the lovable killers Angel and Louis are also facing something of a personal crisis.
other than to say this is almost all exceptionally brilliant, my concern that this review of sorts is of no use is down to it being (at least) book or story 15 in a series. like, if you've not read some, most or all of the previous 14 (or whatever) then this is not an ideal place to start.
the obscenity? somewhere around page 150, i think, John Connolly writes that making tea by (and this makes me physically ill to write) putting the milk in first is somehow the English way of doing it. no, John Connolly, no it is not. it most bl00dy f*****ng well decidedly is not, sir. i know, appreciate, respect and understand that you are Irish, and as such there is a natural affinity for the Irish to not like the English at all; with reasons for that being several and in some decidedly distinct instances with good reason. but there is no reason to go and write something as inflammatory as that.
maybe someone claiming to be English made tea this horrendous, disgusting sounding way. perhaps not for John Connolly, but for someone Irish, many years ago. the legend of that might have spread, and that could be one of the biggest reasons why the Irish have had such an issue with the English. if so, that does not excuse Mr Connolly pouring petrol on the flames here, and i bet it was a bl0ody Frenchie what made it that way. when you think, that does sound like the kind of nonsense they would get up to.
the echo of a whisper of the magnificent Doctor Sleep by Stephen King came to mind more than once whilst i was reading this. not a copy, and not really all that similar in style or story, but still - a feeling, if you like. this was something i felt worth mentioning, should it resonate with any fellow fans of that fine novel. a novel which, if i remember it all, does not insult the entire population of England with obscenities about how they make tea.
indeed, it was the lower case nature of the title what drew me in, as well, provenance fans, as the £2 or £3 "book of the week" price what Tesco had on it. many people totally knack me for mostly writing here in lower case. sorry, i just love it. why? perhaps because of how titles in lower case looked on things like the first Tin Machine album, or the poster for the silence of the lambs. who knows, perhaps no one cares, but i like it.
the plot? tricky one, really, as the back of the novel, as seen in the last picture below, gives next to no details away. with this in mind i am quite reluctant to say too much, but also understand that there is little i can say of the novel without doing so. a little bit stuck, then, i find myself. how about if, for some reason, you are reading this and want to be relatively spoiler free, you just skip over the next paragraph, and then that will be great, yeah?
phew. ok. Lucy and her husband, Adam, are expecting their first child. this is after a couple of years of what appears to be happy married life, should you care to overlook the patent oxymoron, and much to the delight of the relevant mother-in-laws. all would seem to be going well, except that Lucy, as pregnancy goes on, appears to be getting more forgetful and careless. is it an indication of her being ill-prepared or ill-suited to being a mother, or would there be a more sinister reason? not helping, for it never does, is all sorts of family resentments and family secrets coming to the fore....
my feeling after a few chapters was "i, a chap well into his 40s, is not the intended reader of this". but, i cracked on. yes, i know the advice is if you are not enjoying a book ditch it, but i just can't. i always want to know the end, hope it might get better, and, well, flat respect that someone has done and incredible thing and written a novel that's considered good for publication. believe me, i know how hard it is to achieve that.
whereas there was much of the story and narrative i appreciated, the characters were a little too one dimensional for me, in terms of the story entire. at times it is rather too much Peter Robinson, as in everything just all gets wrapped up nice and neatly in the last 5 or 6 pages as per, with apologies to John Connolly above, the English way of doing things.
just who do i think the target market is? i am not sure one can speak this way in the modern world without being arrested for sexism or similar, but perhaps one could suggest more of a female, of the lady, variety of reader may get more from the book than what i did. although i am keen to say it was not bad, just perhaps not meant for my eyes.
right, well, not much for me to add. except, for those interested, the amount of time i dragged reading the bad mother out over may well mean it is only by July, should i still be a going concern, that i may have read another two books and commented here. although you never know. perhaps i shall fly through the next two, we will see. or i will, and you, if you so wish, can read of such here. as and when it happens.
my thanks, as ever, to you for taking the time to read this. or, indeed, for just having a gander at the pictures and that.
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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