I really miss being able to pass little gems like this one onto my mum. She would have adored Anna and Marnie. Anna is a young orphan girl who by her own judgement is both friendless and unloved. Her foster parents send her to live with an elderly couple in Norfolk in a cottage by the sea. She roams the beach and the marshes all day long, becoming fascinated by a large property called Marsh House and the ethereal little girl spied having her hair brushed in an upstairs window. The prose evokes the wild and natural world around her, sometimes dreamlike and otherworldly. I've visited the area myself and the place does have a sort of otherness to it, though that could be the sheer flatness of the land in contrast to the rolling hills and moors of my Lancashire home. Is Marnie real? Is she a ghost? The mystery of Marnie tugs at your wonderings throughout though the book is much more than a quaint little mystery. It looks at friendship, loneliness, feelings of being forever on the outside and all the insecurities of childhood magnified by the emotional and psychological effects of orphanhood. I'm glad I managed to read this before watching Studio Ghibli's animé adaptation that caused such a splash last year. The original line illustrations by Peggy Fortnum are simple but perfectly in keeping with the book. My edition included an afterword by the author's daughter.
It took me a while to get started on this one. The cover on my copy is
the one with the black marker zebra stripes scoring out the author and
the title on the out-sized cover. It's not a look that begs to be picked
up. Junker turns out to be a bit of a train wreck, suspended from the
force for a police op gone wrong and dragging a small mountain of
emotional baggage around with him. Nordic noir does throw up some really
miserable human beings and Junker seems to be a fine specimen of the
type. Wallander is almost cheery by comparison. A murder occurs close to
home, which Junker bluffs his way into an early look at. He finds an
item on the body that links with a friendship from his youth. While the
official investigation treads water Junker relives his past which reads,
in length, like a coming of age narrative. Carlsson writes well and
his dialogue seems to survive the translation from the Swedish to
English without having that stilted edge that you sometimes get in
translated work. Themes touch on deal with dysfunctional families,
bullying, responsibility, guilt, spiral violence, friendship, social
invisibility and crime. Plenty to be going on with anyway. More Junker
novels are on the way.
The city is plagued with a sniper delivering a .308 slug to the heads of
a disparate bunch of victims. Carella and Meyer don't want to deal with
a sniper; a perp who can kill from the shadows with almost supernatural
precision and impunity. This one is a strongish entry to the series
that is only slightly let down by the wrap-up. McBain creates some
wonderfully vivid support characters populating the list of possible
targets/suspects, not least the gag writer so mentally scarred by a
wartime service as a sniper he can never laugh at a joke even though
he's a master at constructing them. Although the psychology of being a
sniper is glanced at I felt the true heart of the story belonged to how
lives can be so indelibly ruined by events that happen during the
wildness of youth. There are also two interrogations, one by a
neighbouring precinct and another by Carella and Meyer that stand out,
both for being brutal, one on a physical level and the other one a
psychological one. The disregard the bulls have for a reformed criminal
is both sad and shocking but also in keeping with the era and the job.
Carella and Meyer's interrogation is purely psychological but no less
brutal considering they employ every double teaming trick in the book to
try to crack a clearly mentally damaged suspect. Although there is a
clear distinction between good cops and bad cops in the story it's a bit
of a shock to see Carella and Meyer come up with a gut evaluation that
is completely at odds with my own but I guess that's mainly because I'm
not on the job. There's a couple of amusing scenes with Bert Kling
and one of the victim's relatives. Is that going somewhere? Who can
tell? That's part of the fun of the 87th.
Keiji Kiriya is a young recruit in the United Defence Force. He's cannon fodder in a war against a merciless alien race of invaders. Over-matched and lacking combat experience he takes fatal damage and dies. And then he wakes two days earlier with full memory of his death.
Hiroshi Sakurazaka's military sci-fi novel is translated from Japanese here. And it translates pretty well. I don't know if its big screen transformation (Edge of Tomorrow with Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt) is as smooth because I haven't seen the movie yet but I'll definitely take a look now.
I had a fun time reading this one. You'd think a sci-f story about a soldier endlessly reliving a couple of days that ends in a big battle would get boring after a few spin-cycles. These sorts of stories with a groundhog day angle can be tricky. Hiroshi Sakurazaka keeps things fresh though, never forcing us to relive things in a repetitive way but skilfully follows our hero's attempts to break free of his situation. Although you'd expect the narrative to be chock full of bomb's and bullets the battle is sketched over with more focus on Keiji's personal development and his relationship with the only other looper Rita Vrataski, the Full Metal Bitch being the order of the day. It's a shame that Keiji and Rita are the only fully developed characters in the book though.
I'm still a bit scarred from reading Anthony Horowitz's authorised but
horrifically inept treatment of Sherlock Holmes in House of Silk. Would
a similar exercise be any better with Sophie Hannah resurrecting
Poirot? My mum adored Sophie Hannah so I was optimistic. I noticed a
real rash of one star reviews that were pretty merciless in their hatred
of this book. But I was still in Sophie's corner. It seemed they were
unhappy that Christie's famous economy of writing was not something
Sophie embraced. But Sophie can write it her way - it doesn't have to be
a full on pastiche. You can evoke a character without the need to ape
another writer's style. And the first scene/chapter when Poirot
originally meets Jenny in the coffee shop is fine. It's amusing,
intriguing and Poirot lives again. And then Scotland Yard in the shape
of Catchpool turns up and it all goes to hell. Well to be fair it isn't
Catchpool who heralds literary Armageddon it's the murder itself. The
rest of the book is Poirot and the sceptical Scotland Yard man endlessly
assembling their thoughts about the crime. It's incredibly over
written. Hannah creates such a vast forest of deduction and explanation
that getting lost and confused amongst the foliage is inevitable. She
doesn't give any of the characters beyond Poirot any life so we
inevitably don't really care who dies, why they die or whodunnit.I wonder whether a better fit would have been Sophie Hannah writing Holmes and Horowitz writing Poirot.
listened to the audio for this one. Julian Rhind-Tutt is a big asset to
the production and I love his David Suchet Poirot impersonation.
Rick Raphael only wrote a handful of stories, mainly in the 60s. His speciality was writing about ordinary people doing a professional job coping with futuristic problems. In one of his other stories 'The Thirst Quenchers' his heroes are hydrologists working to conserve water for an overpopulated country. Code Three speculates what kind of job traffic cops will have to do to keep the super speed highways of the future safe. The story takes a ride with a three person team on a routine three week patrol aboard their state of the art cruiser. With vehicles routinely travelling at speeds four or five times the speeds of today the story goes into detail on how they deal with the consequences of accidents and law breaking. There's no world shattering crisis, just everyday problems on the highways dealt with by highly trained professional... oh and throw in a bit of almost romance that might or might not set off your cheese detectors dependant on your mood. A Hugo nomination had the bad fortune of having to compete with one of Poul Anderson's seven winners 'No Truce with Kings'.
I listened to the audiobook for this one. The narrative follows the inner voices of three women, Rachel (alcoholic with a life in ruins), Megan (soon to be missing presumed dead) and Anna (proud owner of Rachel's ex-spouse). Each one gets a different narrator which really helps keep them separate in your mind and they do a great job immersing themselves in the roles. India Fisher doesn't really have a lot to do as Anna and sounds a little more disconnected than the other two. The male characters are understandably two dimensional in comparison to
the female trio as they are realised entirely by the women's view of
them rather than their own inner perspective.
The murder mystery that binds the three women is always secondary to the psychological themes; how people make presumptive judgements on other people's lives which are usually quite wrong and how we lie and construct masking personae to fool ourselves as much as others. A bit like the title of the book really. 'The Woman on the Train,' just doesn't sound as cool does it. But if there's a moral in here somewhere, 'never judge a book by its cover,' is as good as any.