Review: The Whores' Asylum by Katy Darby

So it turns out that you should never choose a book based on the way the cover feels when you stroke it. Funny that. Between the lovely old-fashioned image printed on the beautiful parchment-y cover, what could go wrong? Oh. Everything.

Plot summary - Oxford, 1887: Even as Victoria celebrates the fiftieth year of her reign, a stone's throw from the calm cloisters and college spires lies Jericho, a maze of seedy streets and ill-lit taverns, haunted by drunkards, thieves and the lowest sort of brazen female as ever lifted her petticoats.

When Stephen Chapman, a brilliant young medical student, is persuaded to volunteer at a shelter devoted to reforming the fallen women of Oxford, his closest friend Edward feels a strange sense of dread. But even Edward - who already knows the devastating effect of falling in love with the wrong woman - cannot foresee the macabre and violent events that will unfold around them, or stop Diana, the woman who seems destined to drive them apart.

That's a wonderful plot summary; it's just a shame it doesn't really relate to the damn book at all. Hell, I still want to read the book that blurb refers to. The actual story is much more mundane, generic and, frankly, boring than the above makes it sound. There's not much mystery, violence, dark twists or anything else that it implies - instead it's just a rather dreary story that I struggled to pick up again after every time I put it down.

It's written in four parts incorporating supposedly different viewpoints and timelines to document the current sad state of Mr Goodman, who we meet at the beginning. It's an interesting concept and I understand what the author was trying to do, but I can't help but feel that not much was revealed by each viewpoint - we don't really learn anything new about the characters and each perspective sounded pretty much the same to me. The various chapters just didn't seem to 'click' together. Like, various questions are raised in one chapter, and the next tries valiantly to answer them... but somehow doesn't quite manage.

On that character point, I just couldn't be induced to care about any of them. Fraser was too uppity and condemning while Goodman is too weak and naive. Once again, I do understand the principle behind these characters and why they are how they are, but it was taken too far in that direction and ended up just irritating me beyond belief. I liked Sukey's character (although in my head I constantly pictured her as Kaley Cuoco) although her personality development wasn't really subtle or refined enough for my liking.

And Diana. Oh Diana. I get the feeling the reader is meant to like her by the end, but I absolutely couldn't. She came across as alternately malicious and weak and although Goodman and Fraser might suddenly, startlingly accept her flaws for no good reason, there was actually no good reason for them to do so.

That's the other point about this book - a lot of it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense. Fraser's guilt towards the end is completely unfounded and we're never really told why he suddenly becomes so receptive to Diana. It actually made me want to hurl the book across the desk in frustration, because what was revealed should in no way have been responsible for his complete opinion overhaul. Also, I know this is a work of fiction, but Goodman's eventual downfall was incredibly unrealistic, both in a literal sense and a medical one. It's technically possible, yes, but the balance of probabilities makes it so unlikely it's ridiculous.  

The thing is, Katy Darby could actually be a very talented writer - the quality of the prose in The Whore's Asylum is astounding and the descriptions of Victorian London are beautifully vivid. I would challenge any experienced author to do better. It's the just the incredibly slow plot and character development that let her down - with a little more planning out and consideration, her next work could be astounding. 

Still, I just can't get over how relieved I was to actually finish this book and move on to something, anything, else.

Just as a quick note, The Whores' Asylum has been republished in September 2012 under the new title of The Unpierced Heart, with a blue cover. This is the same book, although it's equally as beautiful!

Review: Moon Over Soho by Ben Aaronovitch

So this is my first entry for the What's in a Name? challenge hosted by Beth Fish Reads. This is for the second category which is something you'd see in the sky and it's also the sequel to Rivers of London. That review was a difficult one to write and this one is too - so hey, if you've any sympathy with the blood-from-a-stone type of trauma I'm going through here, run over and check out my new feature, Books My Boyfriend and I Have Argued About.

Summary: The song. That’s what London constable and sorcerer’s apprentice Peter Grant first notices when he examines the corpse of Cyrus Wilkins, part-time jazz drummer and full-time accountant, who dropped dead of a heart attack while playing a gig at Soho’s 606 Club. The notes of the old jazz standard are rising from the body—a sure sign that something about the man’s death was not at all natural but instead supernatural.

Body and soul—they’re also what Peter will risk as he investigates a pattern of similar deaths in and around Soho. With the help of his superior officer, Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale, the last registered wizard in England, and the assistance of beautiful jazz aficionado Simone Fitzwilliam, Peter will uncover a deadly magical menace—one that leads right to his own doorstep.

I actually liked this one more than Rivers of London. I felt that it just made that little bit more sense somehow. The plot line  is just as refreshingly different though - there's no way you can get around Ben Aaronovitch's unique creativity. Here, Peter gets a whiff of jazz music-flavoured magic when he examines a fresh corpse and eventually comes to the realisation that something or someone is causing the death of jazz musicians from London. Like the puppetry in the first book, it's something I've never seen even a passing resemblance to before.

My major problem with the first book was the lack of understandability, if that's even a word. It just didn't seem to flow properly. I know I wasn't the only one who had to keep checking back just to see what on earth was going on. Moon Over Soho has much improved on that - it's much easier to follow what's going on. However, it still has the tendency to make my eyes absent-mindedly follow the lines of text while I'm actually thinking about breakfast cereal, or something similar. It's only when I pause that I realise I haven't taken anything in. It's not that it's boring; far from it, it just doesn't seem to grab my attention somehow.

For me, the thing that sets these books apart from the other urban fantasy books is the police-work. For once, the magician hero is working for the Police, not despite them. The author has obviously very carefully included all the detail he could about the inner-workings of the London policing system, because it's fascinating and doesn't disrupt the plot at all.

I liked how the events at the end of Rivers of London continued on into Moon Over Soho - what happened to Lesley, I mean. I was a little afraid it would be glossed over, but obviously Mr. Aaronovitch is cleverer than that. It deals with it perfectly - it's raw and emotional, but it's infrequently mentioned enough to not take over the entire book. Hey, I like continuity, okay?

Emotion-wise, I wanted to give Peter Grant a good slap. There are two women he's supposed to have feelings for, and apparently cares for them both. But not in an oh-aren't-I-a-cad-hoho way and not with any feelings of guilt... he honestly just seems to somehow forget. It's like the other one doesn't exist at a particular time and it's actually very, very irritating. There's no confusion and the story follows Peter and still doesn't even mention it. Gnargh. It bothered me in the first book (different women) but I didn't mention it in my review in case I was being over-picky.

I know I've done that thing again where it seems like I didn't like a book from the way I'm talking about it. I actually did, it's just that are a lot of faults and I found it hard to pick it up again once I'd put it down. Despite that though, the thing that I hated the most about Rivers of London has been fixed and so I liked this one a whole lot more.

Visit Ben Aaronovitch's website here, or read my review of the first book in the series, Rivers of London.

Review: The Postmistress by Sarah Blake

As I mentioned in my The Time Will Come post, I've recently reorganised my bookshelves so that all my TBR books are on one looooong shelf instead of several different piles. The end with the oldest books is closest to my bed, so they're all staring me in the face and I can easily convince myself that I actually want to read them. Or that's the theory, anyway. Of the last seven books, six have been from that end. I'm oddly proud... Anyway, The Postmistress is the latest addition as I bought it ooh.... early 2010? 

The wireless crackles with news of blitzed-out London and of the war that courses through Europe, leaving destruction in its wake. Listening intently on the other side of the Atlantic, newly-wed Emma considers the fragility of her peaceful married life as America edges closer to the brink of war. As the reporter’s distant voice fills the room, she sits convincing herself that the sleepy town of Franklin must be far beyond the war’s reach. But the life of American journalist Frankie, whose voice seems so remote, will soon be deeply entangled with her own. With the delivery of a letter into the hands of postmistress Iris, the fates of these three women become irrevocably linked. But while it remains unopened, can Iris keep its truth at bay?

The majority of the story follows Frankie, an American journalist in London seeking first to report the truth of the Blitz across the seas, and then to travel across Europe telling the story of the Jewish people pushed out of their homes. Unfortunately, she's the most irritating character. She's selfish, stroppy and naive and somehow expects wandering into Nazi Germany to be completely problemless. I did like her vague jobs at the censors behind her broadcasts though - they seemed to fill her out as a character and make her a little more real somehow.

The Postmistress herself doesn't seem to feature that much, which is a shame as she's by far the most interesting woman. 40-year-old Iris runs the rural Post Office by herself and loves the order and perfection that comes with such a job. Every letter in its place, every stamp in its corner. She isn't interested in the secrets the mail might possess - she never reads the back of a postcard or even notices who's sending perfume-scented enevelopes overseas. She just does her job and does it well.

Emma is the new wife of a young doctor in Cape Cod. She's heavily pregnant and hasn't heard from her husband in months, as he's gone to provide medical aid to the bombed residents of London. She refuses to believe he's dead as she has heard no news and the letters he used to send daily have stopped.

I did like the book, but it's not what I expected. Firstly, it's not a whole lot to do with either the Postmistress or letters. Like the blurb states, she does withhold a letter... but it's not even integral to the plot. The whole Post Office side could have been cut out of the story and the book would barely need to change. Ms Blake's notes at the back say that she saw her own Post Lady slip a letter into her own pocket once and that's what inspired the story, but I think that got lost somewhere along the way. It kind of defeats the purpose for me. Fair enough, Frankie had a more action-packed story, but don't pretend that the story's about a Postmistress when it's plainly not. 

The prose is beautiful though. Sarah Blake clearly has a gift for providing stunning imagery, whether its the sandy dunes of Cape Cod or the train station in Berlin packed with Jewish immigrants. Even the dialogue flows naturally, although I found that the viewpoint would change suddenly and we were being shown somebody else's opinion with no obvious gap inbetween. 

I felt that the ending was slightly anti-climactic too. The whole book was building to this big revelation... and then it was dealt with quietly and shoved under the carpet. After the entire point of the book turned out to be different than promised, the lack of any real ending was the icing on the cake.

I think I can sum it up best by saying that I loved the writing style and the characters that felt so real. The War felt gritty and terrifying, and wasn't glossed over like it is in so many books. I loved everything... apart from the story. It ruined it for me. It just kind of meanders around and then peters out gradually. It could have been such a brilliant book, but it just, well... wasn't.