Gentle reader, the long-awaited month of May arrived. Six months ago I began planning a two-week road trip to the Pacific Northwest, and it finally became a reality in May. And what is a good, 3,000-mile road trip but the perfect opportunity to listen to audiobooks?
Crocodile on the Sandbank by Elizabeth Peters I have loved the Amelia Peavbody series for over 30 years, and own the books. But the chance to listen to one of my favorite books was too good to pass. The story is just as entertaining, Amelia is just as admirable, Emerson is just as infuriating, and Ms. Peters' re-creation of the heady days of Victorian explorers just as detailed and delightfully descriptive as I'd remembered. However, I wasn't thrilled with the audiobook because of the narrator. Her breathy voice for the determined, intrepid Amelia Peabody was just wrong. Amelia is a take charge personality who doesn't suffer fools. Her voice is is always strong, sometimes slightly sarcastic, but never breathy like an ingenue. Emerson's voice should be deeper; he almost starts off with a whiny nasal sound in his first few appearances. Ah well, I suppose no one can read the book the way I hear it in my head when I read it. Still a rollicking good book to listen to.
Summer of the Dragon by Barbara Michaels This is the same author who wrote as Elizabeth Peters. While I think I have read every single one, I don't remember all the standalones. They remind me of the Phyllis Whitney and Victoria Holt novels I devoured in my 10-14 years, with their beautiful and spunky heroines, the hero who is initially gruff and insufferable, the modern gothic air of mystery. This book takes place in Arizona, and I have to admit that while the book may be 40 years old, Ms. Michael's descriptions are still apt, even her description of Phoenix (exponentially larger than it was in the 1970s). Her description of the desert is almost lyrical, and I have to wonder if the author ever participated in an archaeological field school out here. The book is a bit dated: the references to the movie stars after which our heroine, DJ, and her siblings are named will be familiar to fans of classic movies but no one else. DJ tends to say "Right on!" a lot, and the drugs used to waylay characters are certainly not ones that would be used today. But there are still a lot of people who are searching for the Lost Dutchman mine, who think the Peralta stones are real, and their crazy theories will be familiar to anyone who watches too much cable TV. The secondary characters with their quirks and passionate crazy theories were quite funny. The one thing that bothered me was that the household staff were called servants. I doubt they were still being called servants in 1975. Oh well, DJ is a delightful heroine, and it's easy to identify with her love of food, her naïveté about the desert, and her spunk. However, major complaint: the narrator did not know how to correctly pronounce many words derived from Native People's languages or Spanish. Mesa Verde is not pronounced Mesa Verd. Saguaro is not pronounced "sahgwaro" with a hard g, nor is cholla pronounced with an l-sound; it's a Spanish double ll which is pronounced as a y. Mogollon, Sinagua and Sinaguan similar do not have hard g's or l's. I don't think that's being picky because the archaeological sites and desert plants are so central to the story (and in the case of Mesa. Verde, very well known) that to mispronounce them repeatedly detracts the listener. And really, how expensive would it have been for the audiobook publisher to consult someone to get the proper pronunciations?
In at the Death by Francis Duncan Mordecai Tremaine's fourth murder mystery begins with a game of chess with Chief Inspector Jonathon Boyce that is interrupted because of a murder in Bridgton. Jonathon asks Mordecai to come with him on the case, so in this entry in the series, Mordecai happens upon the murder and the crime scene with the police. This is a neat way for Mr. Duncan to get his amateur detective involved, because in previous novels, Mordecai was usually present at a weekend party or a similar social event when the murder happens. Here, he gets to work more closely with the police to solve the murder. I enjoy this series so much. The books, written between 1944-1954, only seem dated because of the lack of technology and the sometimes old-fashioned ways of describing people, especially the women. I especially liked the dramatic ending of the book, with its ambiguous depiction of the many ways justice can be served. Let me add that these audiobooks are excellently read by the narrator, which just adds to my enjoyment of them.
A Beautiful Blue Death by Charles Finch This book introduces Charles Lenox, Victorian gentleman and amateur detective, who despite avowing how much he prefers his quiet, dull life, has so far solved 14 mysteries. In this first entry, Lenox's dear friend and neighbor Lady Jane asks him to investigate the death of a young maid, Prudence. I liked the book well enough to probably read more, but it wasn't without its irritations. Lenox and Jane's friendship would never have taken the shape it did in Victorian times. Prudence's many sexual relationships would have been frowned severely upon and it would have been thought she deserved her untimely end because of her behavior. The fact that Lady Jane is not at all shocked by her promiscuity is not, I think, realistic to the period but is a bone thrown to the modern reader. Then another murder occurs, and Lenox begins to suspect that they are all tied to a possible financial scandal involving a highly-placed government official. The errors in making Victorian England appear a little too twenty-first century are not too egregious as to prevent me planning to read more in the series, but in general, I really dislike it when modern social mores are inserted into very different historic cultures.
On What Grounds by Cleo Coyle I read one Coffeehouse series mystery years and years ago, and it wasn't my cup of tea, but when I saw that the library had the audiobook of the first in the series on hand, I thought I'd give it a try. My conclusion--I still don't think I like this series. I want to like Clare. I like how she created a life for herself and her daughter (in suburban New Jersey, where I grew up, too) after leaving her philandering husband, and how that life has been a hodgepodge of different jobs strung together to make a living. Shades of modern day life for many, many of us. What I didn't like were the cutesy names (Cosi and Allegro as last names? Madame Dreyfus-Allegro-Dubois?) and Clare's romantic interest in her ex-husband. And I think there was an overlooked problem with the identification of the killer. The reason for the killing was predictable but plausible, but (and I'm going to reveal something here, so spoiler alert, skip to the next book on this list if you haven't read this one and plan to) the killer left the coffee house thinking that no one would be able to trace them to Annabelle. So why take the key to the coffeehouse with them and leave her purse with all its other belongings behind? At the time of Annabelle's murder, there was no reason to suspect they (the murderer) would ever have to return to the coffee house, so why take it and draw attention to that fact? There was no reason for that to happen, and to make the whole story hinge on that seemed very forced to me. It smacked of lazy writing and an author desperately trying to figure out how to solve the murder while writing it. I know it's a long-running series, but I think I won't try a third time to read it.
Death of a Dustman by M.C. Beaton Ah, Hamish MacBeth, always to be relied for a murder mystery that is not what it seems. I'm still heartbroken that Ms. Beaton's death a couple of years ago means no more Hamish. I do think Hamish has been pining over Priscilla way too long, but at least that's just a very minimal part of the book. Just like in the Mordecai Tremaine book, justice is served in different ways here, too, and sometimes it just doesn't seem right. In Death of a Dustman, the odious trash collector in Loch Dubh knows secrets about everyone and has been trying to blackmail them all. The suspect list is consequently long and no one, not even the widow, mourns the nasty dustman. I do enjoy the revolving sidekicks that are Hamish's subordinates and how they find their lives changed forever by their time in Loch Dubh. Contrast their experiences with Hamish's; his life stays the same no matter what happens. Fun series, and again, very well read.
My Italian Bulldozer by Alexander McCall Smith The powerhouse that is Alexander McCall Smith (how does he write so many books) has written a charming book in My Italian Bulldozer. Paul Stuart has broken up with his girlfriend of four years, and so to heal his broken heart, he decides to go to Italy to complete writing his latest cookbook. But the working holiday gets off to a bad start when he is accused of stealing a rental car. The only transport he can get is a bulldozer, on which he rides off into the sunset and a set of misadventures while gaining a new appreciation of life and romance. Delightful and charming, this standalone is a good introduction to the author and his dry wit. I just wish we'd had more of Gloria and her sharp mind and discerning intellect.
Desert, Driving, and Derelicts by Tonya Kappas Again. I like the premise but not the cutesy name: the Campers and Criminals series. Mae West (Maybelline is her real name) got shafted by her ex-husband and the only thing that she could salvage was an RV park, the Happy Trails Campground, in Normal, Kentucky. My sister is about to move to Kentucky (this week, in fact), so I wanted to take a little dive into what fiction thinks Kentucky is like. I like the premise because it gives the author a lot of scope--the comings and goings of people at the RV park, and the people and businesses in the nearby small town that caters to the visitors provide plenty of ways to get Mae involved in a mystery. I also liked how Mae plunges into trying to get whatever work she can, so a second job as a cleaning lady is welcome and treated with great dignity by the author. I'm not so crazy about the juvenile crush Mae develops, and when she's cleaning his camper, she starts snooping though his stuff. Ding, ding, ding--stalker! Mae is stalking and being a Toal creepster in this subplot! This is not cutesy but really alarming to me as a reader. I did enjoy the outlandish characters and their over-the-top southernliess, but a little goes a long way. So while I might read another in the series, I may need a little time away from Happy Trails in between my visits.
Five Little Pigs by Agatha Christie I started my road trip with an Agatha Christie novel because you might as well start a three-day road trip of 1,500 miles with a bang. Hercule Poirot helps the daughter of a convicted murderer discover the real murderer of Amyas Crale. I really enjoyed the whole premise, of Poirot investigating a very cold case that everyone thought had been satisfactorily solved. However, I didn't find the British rhyme made much sense with he chapters; this might have been more evident with a read rather than a listen to the story. But you can't go wrong with an Agatha Christie, and the lesser known Poirots are always fun to read.
Behold a Fair Maid by Francis Duncan This is the last Mordecai Tremaine novel written by Francis Duncan. Mordecai goes to an island for vacation and finds that the slow idyllic life on the island masks old grievances and criminal activity. I found this the most convoluted of the Tremaine novels, and had to read the ending twice to make sure that I understood the many threads and how they were woven together. And because of that I didn't enjoy this one quite as much as I had the other four in the series. I wish there had been more descriptions of the island and the settings, but it was still a very enjoyable book.
