Dry country, dry wit

A two-fer today - I'm atoning for my blog-slacking sins here. I just finished up Alexander McCall Smith's The Full Cupboard of Life, the latest in his series chronicling the adventures of the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. The Botswana-set series has caught fire around the country and deservedly so. The books beautifully capture the beauty of their setting while quietly sneaking in a wonderful dry wit and subtle charm. I've never had much desire to go to Africa, but McCall Smith manages to make me consider adding Botswana to my already lengthy list of places to visit before I die.

I'm really rather surprised at how much I enjoy McCall Smith's books. I'd kicked around the idea of trying out the series but wasn't sure I'd like it. My mom, who's my go-to authority on all things mystery, wasn't too sure about it either but bought the first one on the strength of the reviews. It sat on her shelf collecting dust for several months until I borrowed it on one of my trips home. I figure if I'm already heading back to Chicago with 20 books under my arm one more isn't going to kill me. I eventually got around to reading it and discovered a rather nice little gem. I don't typically go for 'cozy' mysteries, but these have a seductive appeal all their own. He's obviously a great writer - I don't think I would have gotten past page 15 of the first book if he wasn't. My advice? If you've thought about reading the series but aren't sure, give it a try. Borrow the first one (The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency) from a friend (if you have friends who read, one of them is bound to have a copy) and give it a whirl. You just might be pleasantly surprised.

But I didn't review this particular book, you say? Piffle. If you've already read the rest of the series, you'll buy this book anyway because you'll know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, you need to start at the beginning anyway. Go over to Amazon.com and bother them instead. My blog, my rules. Now scram. Your books miss you.

Looking up

I've gotten a little behind in updates, as you can probably tell. There's a lot of turmoil at the office lately and I'm just now starting to get a handle on things. Thank god I have the day off tomorrow - it's such a welcome relief I can't even say.

First up for my new reviews is Ross King's Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling, the story of the two great men behind one of the world's great artistic masterpieces, the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome. I must admit a penchant for books about artists and the creative process, despite the fact that my own talents in this area are strictly limiting to stick figures, smilie faces, and the occasional Mondrian-inspired canvas. King's book is certainly a fine example of the genre and he does an excellent job of showing the true granduer of Michelangelo's achievement while still recognizing that the artist was often hampered by his suspicious nature. Interesting tidbits about in the book - I didn't realize that the Sistine Chapel was the first fresco Michelangelo executed since his student days. Even given his prodigious talent, Michelangelo was severely hampered by his lack of knowledge about how to work in this notoriously tricky medium. Also rather surprising is the fact that unlike so many artists, Michelangelo actually managed to get paid what he was owed for his work. Considering the numerous wars his patron Pope Julius II fought during the 4 years it took Michelangelo to complete the ceiling, getting what he was owed is a testament to both his tremendous creation and his forceful personality.

While King's previous entry into the genre, Brunelleschi's Dome, has been widely praised, if I were to only recommend one book of his I'd choose this one. Brunelleschi's Dome is very heavy on physics, which while a necessary requirement to adequately explain the magnitude of the achievement, it's tough slugging for readers like myself who aren't really physics people. Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling has the advantage in being a far less technical subject that makes for an easier and more enjoyable read. I'd give both books 4 stars based on the quality of the writing and the obviously thorough research that they're grounded in.

If you're curious, King has also made an excellent foray into Iain Pears territory with his literary mystery Ex Libris. Definitely worth spending some time on if you like richly detailed, intricately plotted, and slightly quirky literary mysteries.

Bottoms up, Londinium style

I finished Lindsey Davis' The Jupiter Myth last night. Solid, well-written, and rather funny to boot. I'll definitely be checking out more of the Marcus Didius Falco series in the future if this book is any indication of their quality. My full review should pop up over at The Mystery Reader here in the next week or so.

Well look at that!

Just had my first review published - pop on over to The Mystery Reader (link in the sidebar) and check out my critique of Stephanie Barron's Jane and the Ghosts of Netley. Look for more reviews from me on the site going forward - I'll mostly be reviewing historical mysteries.

Theft, forgery, and little old ladies in Rome

Since the Sureshot fiance was off studying for his board exams today, I took the opportunity to squeeze another book into my schedule. This one's Iain Pears' Death and Restoration, one in his Jonathan Argyll/Flavia di Stefano series of art history mysteries. While the series hasn't received the same level of praise as Pears' An Instance of the Fingerpost (which happens to be excellent, BTW), they're more lighthearted and a pleasant way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Pears' "serious novels" certainly deserve the praise they get, but his work in this series is perhaps unfairly derided for not being of the same intellectual caliber. Personally, I rather appreciate a good author that can write "down-market" while still keeping the neat plots and excellent characterizations. I'd much rather read Pears' so-called lesser work than some of the fawned-over excuses for literature that too often dominate the best-seller lists.

Death and Restoration again follows our recently engaged art-theft-fighting duo embroiled in yet another unusual case. The Art Theft Squad has received a tip that the monastery of San Giovanni is due to be relieved of one of its art works. The tip seems dubious - there's not much of value in this monastery committed to poverty excepted an enormous (and thus difficult to make off with) painting attributed to Caravaggio. Add in the fact that said Carvaggio is currently under restoration and you've got the makings of a useless tip-off, but Flavia decides to check it out anyway. No sooner than Flavia begins to look into the matter, one of the fathers at the monastery is attacked and a small icon of the Virgin goes missing. The theft is confounding and the recent arrival of a known art thief (readers of the series will recognize an old friend here) in Rome sends Jonathan and Flavia deep into a new investigation. The mystery follows a variety of twists and turns as numerous suspects (the thief! the art restorer! the dealer!) are investigated and eliminated. As always, with Flavia's police work and Jonathan's research skills, the couple manages to unravel the mystery behind the icon and its disappearance.

Part of why I love this series is how Pears manages to craft his stories in such a way that even when the perpetrator is known, there's still more to the story. Rather than making the who the focus of his plots, Pears gets you thinking about the why also. Motive matters in a mystery, and Pears heads that axiom far better than most writers in the genre. He also avoids the common trap of not devoting enough time to the denouement of his story. The mystery doesn't slam to a halt when the villian is caught - we get to see how all the players in the story come together to set things right again, in so much as they're able. The decided lack of loose ends always makes a Pears book satisfying.

Definitely worth the time to read if you're interested in art history or Rome generally. I'd put this installment at 4 stars.

Finally, something for the topic

Just finished Penelope Lively's Spiderweb. She's a British novelist who won a Booker prize for one of her earlier works. She's not big into plots per se - she makes heavy use of barely delineated flashbacks in the life of her protagonist to tell the story (roughly) of Stella Brentwood, a retired social anthropologist recently removed to a small town in Somerset. After years of living a solitary, itinerant life studying various cultures around the world from a scholarly distance, she's suddenly finding herself trying to figure out how to live in the world, rather than alongside it. Aided by the widower of a college friend, Stella slowly anchors into this new world.

Parallel to this 'plot' is a contemporary thread following a deeply disturbed family whose property neighbors Stella's. In spite of all her training and expertise in understanding kinship structures in foreign societies, Stella fails to recognize the slow implosion taking place just over her property line.

Lively's a tough author for me to love, but I do like her work. Her way with words is well-honed and wonderfully descriptive, but it's often hard to grasp what it is that she's trying to say. Her books are rather intensely British - much less action-driven and more towards the realm of loose character study. Spiderweb is a true 'library book' - best read in that quiet, contemplative environment. I'll give it 3 stars out of 5 - pleasant enough, but not a sock-knocker in terms of quality.

Now that I have your attention

Or not. But I don't care. You're trapped in this meeting with me for the next hour. You're going to listen to what I have to say and you're going to like it. Got me? Good.

The Sureshot fiance pointed me over to this site - he seems to think that others would find my musings interesting. Awww. Boys are so cute when they're silly.

Ostensibly this blog is supposed to be about sharing my rather esoteric taste in books with the world for the greater good of humanity (right) but I imagine that my ramblings will only sometimes be on topic. Thankfully there's no velvet hammer of Miss Alli (check out her hysterical Apprentice/Survivor/Amazing Race recaps at www.televisionwithoutpity.com - you'll thank me later) to moderate me into oblivion when I wander.

A little background on me for your edification: I'm 23, live in Chicago, work as a receptionist for what has to be the most drama-laden 10-person office in the history of the universe, and I'm gearing up for taking the leap into married life on 9/4/04. I'm also an avid reader and I'm currently applying to a slew of graduate schools with the hopes of getting my master's in library science starting this fall. I have the most adorable little dog in the whole world - a black and grey cockapoo named Bunsen. He is a cute and cuddly furbaby that I love to pieces. Owning a dog is what it must be like to be a rock star - it's hard to imagine that any other living thing could be that excited to hear you come home from work.

That's about it for now. Your homework assignment - if you haven't already, read Jasper Fforde's The Eyre Affair. Best damn book I've read in five years, easy. If your sense of humor runs to the absurd, it's definitely your cup of tea. With a good British scone. Not that you can get those in the US. Damn it.

Is this thing on? *thump*

Yeah, so anyway, there was this blog, right, and there was this chick that wrote it, but she wasn't sure how to use this blogging stuff, right, and, uh, yeah.