The Minotaur by Barbara Vine

She seemed to be considering whether to say more, then impulsively said, "There's madness in the family." The expression was old-fashioned then if not yet politically incorrect, but she repeated it. "Yes, madness in the family." When people say this, phrasing it in various ways, they always sound pleased about this particular genetic inheritance. Cancer or arthritis "in the family" is spoken of quite differently.

-The Minotaur

The Minotaur by Barbara Vine--pseudonym for acclaimed crime writer Ruth Rendell--is not a murder mystery, per se. There's a fair amount of mystery and a bit of murder, but it's more in the style of Gothic literature: lots of semi-deranged characters haunting their decaying manor home and one poor interloper struggling to make sense of it all.

The interloper is Kerstin Kvist, hired by the eccentric Cosway family to care for John, the middle-aged son who has been diagnosed with schizophrenia. When Kerstin arrives, she's somewhat perplexed by what she needs to do: John is so sedated by the strong medication that he takes that he is easily managed by his mother and sisters. As she gets to know the family, she begins to realize that their relationship with John is a complicated one and, alarmingly, he doesn't seem to need the sedatives his family insists that he takes. In fact, although John does seem to have his issues, Kerstin doubts that he's schizophrenic at all--but why treat him as if he is? Kerstin tries to protect John while she figures that out, but in the meantime finds herself drawn into another family tragedy.

The story is set in the 1960s, but told from older Kerstin's perspective as she looks back decades later. The word for John's true condition, for instance--Asperger's syndrome--was something she didn't hear until long after her time as his aide ended. Structuring a novel in this way can be a useful device for an author, although in this case I felt that Vine relied a little too heavily on it--rather too many hints about how certain objects/people/events would influence the course of the mysterious tragedy for my taste.

The strongest parts of the book were those that involved John and the protective love that Kerstin develops for him. The rest of the Cosway family is not terribly likable--matriarch Julia is pretty easy to loathe, actually--so I found myself less involved in the parts of the story that were more about them. John, though remote by nature, is still much easier to warm to--more human than anyone around him, Kerstin excepted. Although The Minotaur is a fictional account, it's sad to think that so many people like John really have been misunderstood and in some cases mistreated, especially before people became aware of autism. I imagine that aspect of the book, if nothing else, will stick with me.

Up next: It's finally happening! A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin

The Van Alen Legacy by Melissa de la Cruz

When she woke up that morning, the first thing that came to mind was that the bright white shutters looked familiar. Why did they look familiar? No. That wasn't right. That wasn't the right question to ask. She was getting ahead of herself again. It happened. But now she had to concentrate. Every day she had to ask herself three very important questions, and that wasn't one of them.

The first question she had to ask herself was, What is my name?

She couldn't remember. 

-The Van Alen Legacy 

Well, I definitely made a mistake here in not reviewing this book immediately after reading it, as now it's been a week and the books are starting to blur together. Let's see: Schuyler and Oliver are on the run from the Venators, who believe she's responsible for a recent murder; Bliss is having a seriously unfortunate identity crisis/extended possession; and Mimi is down in Brazil with the redeemed Kingsley Martin, searching for any lead in the disappearance of Bliss's little sister, Jordan. Plot-wise, things are hopping.

At this point, though, I feel like I'm running out of things to say about the series. Bliss's story was headed in quite a strange direction, though the events of this book mean things should change fairly substantially. Schuyler's, as always, was not quite as engaging as it should be--she's just not that dynamic of a character. I am, however, growing more invested in Mimi. She's certainly become more nuanced as a character, and her relationship with Kingsley vs. her relationship with Jack leaves me curious to see what she will do going forward. I'll definitely be back for the next book, but for now I'm taking a bit of a breather.

Up next: The Minotaur by Barbara Vine

Revelations by Melissa de la Cruz

She had almost dropped off to sleep when there was a shadow on the terrace.

Schuyler looked up expectantly, feeling a mixture of anticipation and a deep and abiding sadness. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Even if she saw him every day, it would always be like the first time.

"Hey, you," a voice said. And a boy appeared from the shadows.

But he was not the one she was waiting for.

-Revelations 

I'll admit that at times reading the Blue Bloods books seems a bit like eating candy for breakfast*--a sweet, guilty pleasure in the moment, but not something you'd want to make a habit of. Still, after Little Dorrit I was in need a of a sugar rush, so I picked up Revelations, the third book in Melissa de la Cruz's series.

What's happening with Schuyler Van Alen this time around? Well, there are nefarious Silver Blood happenings afoot, of course, particularly tied to the reappearance of the troubled Dylan Ward. But Schuyler for the most part is consumed with more mundane problems; specifically, how to choose between the two loves of her life. There's Oliver Hazard-Perry, the human who's been her long-time best friend, not to mention the only person with whom she's performed the Sacred Kiss (otherwise known as sucking blood). And then there's Jack Force, the handsome vampire she can't help but feel drawn to despite the fact that he's promised to another. Decisions, decisions.

I can't say that Revelations was the most compelling of books, but I must admit that whenever I was reading it, I wasn't particularly inclined to stop. The book did offer up one unexpected twist**, but I'm not exactly sure what I think of it--we'll see, I suppose.

Up next: Reading the next Blue Bloods book, The Van Alen Legacy.

*Full disclosure--I'm not sure I have actually ever eaten candy for breakfast, though I recall getting into some pretty early on more than one Christmas morning.

**Well, unexpected to the series as a whole; it was pretty well telegraphed within the book itself. 

Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens

"If Miss Amy Dorrit will direct her own attention to, and will accept of my poor assistance in, the formation of a surface, Mr. Dorrit will have no further cause of anxiety. May I take this opportunity of remarking, as an instance in point, that it is scarcely delicate to look at vagrants with the attention which I have seen bestowed upon them, by a very dear young friend of mine? They should not be looked at. Nothing disagreeable should ever be looked at. Apart from such a habit standing in the way of that graceful equanimity of surface which is so expressive of good breeding, it hardly seems compatible with refinement of mind. A truly refined mind will seem to be ignorant of the existence of anything that is not perfectly proper, placid, and pleasant."

-Little Dorrit 

Well, this has been a long time coming. Little Dorrit--which clocks in at over 800 pages--is no quick read, that's for sure. And while I'd hoped to become absorbed in the world Dickens created, much as I was with Bleak House, I found Little Dorrit to be mostly a slog.

The titular character in Little Dorrit is a timid seamstress, christened Amy, who has grown up in Marshalsea Prison. Her father is incarcerated as a debtor, and she's spent little time outside of the prison that she considers a home. She does leave Marshalsea to do her sewing work, primarily at the residence of the cold and businesslike Mrs. Clennam. Her simple, sheltered life changes when Mrs. Clennam's son, Arthur, returns home to London after an extended stay in Japan. Arthur takes an interest in her affairs, primarily because he worries that his own family's business might have been one that Mr. Dorrit owed money to so many years ago. This sense of responsibility motivates Arthur to help Amy, though he cannot foresee, of course, just how great the ramifications of his aid will be.

I've mentioned only four characters, but since it's Dickens you can rest assured there are easily fifty--few of them, sadly, are terribly compelling. Arthur is sympathetic, though it's hard to find his patronizing relationship with Amy as romantic as I suspect we are intended to. He calls her Little Dorrit, for one, which I have a hard time getting past--she is a grown woman, after all, even if he's twice her age. Amy herself, unfortunately, is a bit of a drip. She's kind, sure, but she possesses none of the spark that made Esther Summerson, a similarly good-hearted character, much more likable in Bleak House. In short, you know something's wrong with the characters when I didn't even find the (random) French murderer interesting.

That being said, Dickens threw in a couple of good reversals of fortune, so the second half of the book moves along more quickly than the first. Normally I'm not one to gripe about this when it comes to Dickens, but I think the problem is really one of length. Cut down the first half by 200 pages, remove a subplot or five--I think there is an interesting story in there, he just didn't quite tell it. It's why I still plan to see the miniseries at some point--I think that, with some editing, I might like this story a good deal better. Certainly no rush to see it at the moment, though.

Up next: Already finished the third Blue Bloods book, Revelations.

Started Early, Took My Dog by Kate Atkinson

"Boys will be boys," he heard Kitty Winfield murmur as the two women walked away.

Men didn't deserve women.

"We don't deserve them," he said to Ian Winfield as they rolled their way to the bar.

"Oh God no," he said. "They're far superior to us. Wouldn't want to be one, though."

-Started Early, Took My Dog 

So, first off, the big news is this:

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Jackson Brodie, as portrayed by Jason Isaacs in the new BBC adaptation of Case Histories. I must say, my imagination has done me a great disservice in never conjuring up Jason Isaacs as Jackson prior to now, because it's pretty brilliant casting. Here's the trailer, in case you might need to watch it a million times before the show airs on PBS (starting October 16th!).  (The Johnny Cash is a great detail. Jackson would approve).

So I read Started Early, Took My Dog with that casting in mind, which was just the cherry on top of another wonderful book by Kate Atkinson. In this latest installment, Jackson has left Edinburgh for his old stomping ground of Yorkshire. He's attempting to trace the origins of a client in New Zealand whose birth and subsequent adoption, some thirty-odd years earlier, were accompanied by a telling lack of legitimate documentation. Atkinson also weaves in the story of Tracy Waterhouse, a retired police superintendent who makes a very rash decision in a mall parking lot and whose experience as a rookie in a murder case in 1975 may tie her to Jackson's client. Atkinson jumps back and forth and time to tell these stories as well as to explore the 1975 case and the corruption in the Yorkshire police department at that time that caused so much unnecessary heartache.

Atkinson is brilliant. I really don't know what else to say. I can't imagine having the talent to bring these stories together; it seems like magic to me. When I was looking over my review of When Will There Be Good News?, I noted that at that point I considered it to be my favorite in the series, but its position may have just been usurped. I think I'd like to go back and read from the beginning again, actually, because at this point I've lost track of some things about Jackson (forgot he was from Yorkshire, for one) and just because it is an excellent set of stories. I loved Tracy, and I relished contemplating the moral quandary that came of her actions--always nice when a book makes you think, isn't it? I did miss Louise, though, and I am hoping she'll be back in a future book.Whatever turn Jackson's life takes next, I'm looking forward to reading about it.

Up next: Back to Little Dorrit, which finally seems to be picking up the pace a bit.

Spoiled by Heather Cocks & Jessica Morgan

"As least she's got better taste than the last underclassman you hired," Arugula noted. "Remember those Hot Topic coupons?"

"I know," Brooke shuddered. "As if I shop at the mall, much less the store that costumed my dad's zombie eating-disorder movie."

"Was Chew any good? I couldn't bring myself to see it."

"Don't," Brooke confided. "Daddy dumped the lead actress in the middle of filming and you can totally tell. She stops purging with conviction halfway through the second act. So disrespectful."

-Spoiled

I've been reading the work of Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan since both were recappers on Television Without Pity--heck, that might have been back when it was still called Mighty Big TV. They moved on to found their own blog, Go Fug Yourself, which is basically the best fashion blog around (if you have a sense of humor, at least, which is pretty useful in the world of fashion). When they started talking about the YA book they were writing, it was pretty obvious to me that it was going to be a must-read.

Spoiled tells the story of Molly Dix, a sunny Midwestern high-school student whose life is turned upside-down in the wake of her mother's death. Molly is left not only to grieve her mother's death, but to cope with her death-bed confession: she lied about the identity of Molly's real father. He's not a long-dead military man, as Molly always believed, but instead the world-famous action star Brick Berlin. What's more, Molly's mother makes a last request--she wants Molly to move to L.A. and let Brick take her in.

Molly, naturally, is floored. And while Brick is as warm and loving as she could have hoped (though unsurprisingly busy), she's anxious about another new addition to her family: Brick's daughter, Brooke. As well she should be, it turns out, because queen bee Brooke has no stake in making the transition to L.A. easy for Molly--in fact she'd be perfectly pleased if Molly took the next flight home. And if she can do anything to encourage that, well....

Spoiled is a lot of frothy fun. It reminded me of Mean Girls meets Clueless meets 90210 (original awesome version), and how much better can YA get than that? (Unless it has wizards or a dystopian death game, but that's apples and oranges, I think). There is definitely a lot of room for a sequel, which is exciting--especially because I think we need the introduction of the resident Bad Boy--either a jackass (Clueless's Elton) or a poor little rich boy (90210's Dylan) would work for me.

And we're going to get a movie, right? Or a TV show? Someone needs to make that happen, pronto.

Up next: This post is embarrassingly late. Seriously, I started it a solid two weeks ago. Anyway, I've already finished  finished Kate Atkinson's Started Early, Took My Dog, which I loved.

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Why is this book called Bossypants? One, because the name Two and a Half Men was already taken. And two, because ever since I became an executive producer of 30 Rock, people have asked me, "Is it hard for you, being the boss?" and "Is it uncomfortable for you to be the person in charge?" You know, in that same way they say, "Gosh, Mr. Trump, is it awkward for you to be the boss of all these people?" I can't answer for Mr. Trump, but in my case it is not. I've learned a lot over the past ten years about what it means to be the boss of people. In most cases being a good boss means hiring talented people and then getting out of their way. In other cases, to get the best work out of people you may have to pretend you are not their boss and let them treat someone else like the boss, and then that person whispers to you behind a fake wall and you tell them what to tell the first person. Contrary to what I believed as a little girl, being the boss almost never involves marching around, waving your arms, and chanting, "I am the boss! I am the boss!"

-Bossypants 

So I decided I needed to take a bit of a breather from Little Dorrit, which I hate to admit is fairly slow going so far. I'm nearly halfway through, and I'm hoping things will kick into high gear soon. In the weeks I've been reading it, a dozen books from various sources have piled up on my shelf, and I thought it might be better to take a break and read a couple of those. Thus, Bossypants, a birthday present from my most excellent brother.

I've loved (and identified with) Tina Fey since she first came into the spotlight as co-anchor of Weekend Update. I always have solidarity with ladies who wear glasses, but beyond that she seemed both funny and incisive, which is about the best you can ask for in a comedian. Also, she went to my alma mater, which means I was lucky enough to see her perform on stage with a touring company of Second City during my time there.

All of this led me to believe that I would be a great fan of Bossypants, and I was absolutely right. Tina (I feel like I can call her Tina, right?) starts with a self-deprecating look at her nerdy childhood, which is always a good start in my book. She covers everything from her college years* to her time running 30 Rock, with enough room in between to share the story of a honeymoon cruise gone wrong and the travails of working at the YMCA. Tina has that enviable talent of a great writer to take a fairly mundane situation and make it both funny and engrossing--you just want her to tell you about everything. 

It's a very quick read--ideal for bringing along on a plane trip or to the beach if you don't mind risking looking a bit crazy while stifling laughter in public. I'm quite pleased to have a copy, as I can definitely see both rereading it and lending it out in the future.

Up next: I am quite behind in blog posts, so I've already finished Spoiled by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan.

*I was pleased when she took a line to explain a bit of the terminology we use at Mr. Jefferson's University. It's absolutely pretentious of us and I love it so.Wahoowa!

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

A letter. For me. That was something of an event. The crisp-cornered envelope, puffed up with its thickly folded contents, was addressed in a hand that must have given the postman a certain amount of trouble. Although the style of the writing was old-fashioned, with its heavily embellished capitals and curly flourishes, my first impression was that it had been written by a child. The letters seemed untrained. Their uneven strokes either faded into nothing or were heavily etched into the paper. There was no sense of flow in the letters that spelled out my name. Each had been undertaken separately--M A R G A R E T L E A--as a new and daunting enterprise. But I knew no children. That is when I thought, It is the hand of an invalid.

It gave me a queer feeling. Yesterday or the day before, while I had been going about my business, quietly and in private, some unknown person--some stranger--had gone to the trouble of marking my name onto this envelope. Who was it who had had his mind's eye on me while I hadn't suspected a thing?

-The Thirteenth Tale 

Margaret Lea, the heroine of The Thirteenth Tale, receives a mysterious letter. The sender, to Margaret's surprise, is one of England's most beloved authors: the reclusive Vida Winter. Vida has long prided herself on obfuscating her past in interviews, using her gifts as a novelist to invent her own history, each version more colorful than the last. Finally she is ready to tell her true story, and she's plucked Margaret from obscurity to be her biographer.

Margaret is reluctant at first. She's never even read a book by Vida Winter, for a start--she's not one for contemporary fiction. And while she has written some biographical accounts, they weren't about living people. She doesn't have much use for living people in general, really. She spends her days in her father's antiquarian bookshop, happily surrounded by books. But she overcomes her reservations and makes the trip to Yorkshire, then sets to sharpening her pencils. Vida's story awaits her.

Everyone has a story, Vida says, and hers is a doozy.  It's every bit as Gothic as the 19th century novels Margaret holds so dear--there's incest, and illegitimate children, and plenty of intrigue. Oh, and murder--of course there's murder. Margaret finds herself more and more pulled into the story, especially when it becomes apparent that even in Vida's most honest retelling, there's much that's being left unsaid.

The Thirteenth Tale is a great, absorbing read. I read the bulk of it traveling to and from Chicago recently, and I couldn't have asked for a better book to pass the time. In fact, I finished slightly before the end of the flight, so I lingered over the Reader's Guide, which I often pass over. I quite enjoyed the interview with Diane Setterfield, whom I identified with--especially when she talked about the panicky sensation one can get if one needs a book and doesn't have it at the ready. A terrible problem, to be sure, though one I'm unlikely to have in the near future, given the number of unread books currently piling up in my apartment.

Up next: What's better in the summertime than a nice, fat Dickens novel? I'm about 80 pages into Little Dorrit--that is to say, a little less than a tenth of the way through. Excellent.

Masquerade by Melissa de la Cruz

 

"Aduivo Amicus Specialis. Nihilum cello. Meus victus est tui manus." I come to you for aid as a secret, special friend. I have nothing to hide. My life is in your hands.

He looked into her eyes with an icy stare that could only belong to Schuyler's kind, and her words faded into silence.

"Dormio," he ordered, and with a wave of his hand, she felt the darkness come upon her as she fainted.

-Masquerade

If you were to pick a city a vampire might haunt, Venice would have to be among your top prospects. So it comes as no surprise that that's where we find Schuyler Van Alen at the outset of Masquerade, the second Blue Bloods book by Melissa de la Cruz. Schuyler has come to Venice in search of her grandfather, a man whom she has never met. Nevertheless, he's her last hope to learn more about the Silver Bloods, the corrupted vampires believed to be behind a recent string of attacks in New York.

It's gotten dangerous out there for the Blue Bloods, and things are particularly difficult for Schuyler and her friend Bliss. Both girls have been dealing with mysterious blackouts--and things only get more complicated when they consider taking their first human blood...

Okay, it can sound a little silly at times. But once you get wrapped up in the Blue Bloods world, Masquerade becomes a pretty good pageturner. I certainly read it quite quickly, and I'm sure I'll be getting to the third one before long. 

Up next: I've already finished The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, and I'm looking forward to coming back and writing about it. 

Blue Bloods by Melissa de la Cruz

Across the street, Schuyler saw a cab pull up to the curb, and a tall blond guy stepped out of it. Just as he emerged, another cab barreled down the street on the opposite side. It was swerving recklessly, and at first it looked like it would miss him, but at the last moment, the boy threw himself in its path and disappeared underneath its wheels. [...]

Schuyler ran across the street, fully expecting to see a dead body, but the boy was standing right in front of her, counting the change in his wallet. He slammed the door shut and sent his taxi on its way. He was whole and unhurt.

"You should be dead," she whispered. 

-Blue Bloods


Schuyler Van Alen has a fairly ordinary sort of life--well, by Manhattan standards, at least. She's grown up with her grandmother in a dusty mansion on Riverside Drive and attends school across town at the tony Duchesne. For fun, she enjoys nothing more than hanging out with her best friend Oliver and reading magazines. Every Sunday, she goes to the hospital to visit her mother, who has spent the last fifteen years in a coma--okay, that's a little out of the ordinary.

Things change when Schuyler's classmate Aggie Carondolet is found dead of an apparent drug overdose. One of the most popular girls in school, Aggie was often in the company of Duchesne queen bee Mimi Force, who has never had any use for the offbeat Schuyler. So Schuyler is surprised when Mimi's equally popular twin brother, Jack, approaches her with a theory: Aggie Carondolet didn't just die--she was murdered.

Thus begins Schuyler's initiation into the world of the Blue Bloods--those who are not only the world's most wealthy and influential citizens, but also something far older and more powerful: vampires. Needless to say, life is no longer remotely ordinary for Schuyler.

Melissa de la Cruz has a breezy style that made Blue Bloods an enjoyable light read. Her mythology for vampires is interesting--there is a reincarnation angle that I haven't seen explored before. I did find her penchant for explaining what every character is wearing--down to the brand--somewhat amusing, but I guess it's not totally unexpected for a book set on the label-conscious Upper East Side. All in all, a fun read, and I'm sure I'll be reading more.

Up next: In fact, I've already read the second book in the series, Masquerade. I hope to be back to blog about it before heading out of town for a few days.